The Ramblings of a Cutter

Once I was asked why I cut and to tell you the truth I couldn’t answer with one straight sentence. I thought for some time and then thought FEELING SORRY for myself played a part, but what is…what’s the deeper meaning for me to hurt myself. Then it hit me as I was holding the blood soaked razor in my hands, tears pouring down my face.
         I FEEL SORRY FOR MYSELF BECAUSE NO ONE UNDERSTANDS.
         NO ONE UNDERSTANDS BECAUSE I AM ASHAMED.
         I AM ASHAMED BECAUSE I CAN’T HOLD MY HEAD UP.
         I CAN’T HOLD MY HEAD UP BECAUSE I AM QUILITY.
         I AM QUILITY BECAUSE I AM ANGRY.
         I AM ANGRY BECAUSE I WAS ABUSED.
         I WAS ABUSED BECAUSE I COULD NOT SAY NO.
         I DID NOT SAY NO BECAUSE I WAS SCARED.
         I WAS SCARED BECAUSE I WAS ALONE.
         I WAS ALONE BECAUSE NO ONE LIKED ME.
         NO ONE LIKED ME BECAUSE I WAS SHY.
         I WAS SHY BECAUSE OF MY FATHER.
         BECAUSE OF MY FATHER I AM MISUNDERSTOOD.