I wonder why I ask lol

I've gotten into this habit (I guess you could call it that) of asking someone for a topic to write about for the day. So, I go to a random media outlet I’m a part of and ask what I should write about. I haven’t been keeping up with that, but I something told me to ask. I asked, and I received topics. I always pick the first topic that is given to me; sometimes it’s a really good topic, sometimes it’s horrid. And sometimes it is just hard because somehow, some random person has picked a topic that hits close to home or is something I don’t like talking about. Today, I got one of these. 

I usually post these on a very private blog, but I've had friends who were curious about this. They wondered where some scars came from and I told them. They requested I post this up as part of my new, "I'll be completely honest about everything" attitude. So there it is. 

So the topic/question of the day is:

Have you ever cut yourself purposely? If so, what do you think made you do it, why did you keep doing it, and where are your scars? Also, if you don't do it anymore, how hard was it for you to stop?

Short answer: Yes and because it was addicting.

I started cutting in 7^th grade; I started young. I was a very quiet kid. I always seemed happy to most people but I was miserable. I was that awkward kid, who wore glasses, was taller than everyone, was chubby, had developed before everyone, and was usually teacher’s pet. Not many people liked me and the friends I did have were a tad cruel; but hey, they were MY friends right! Earlier that year, my grandmother had moved in with my family and things had changed for us.  I didn't start cutting purposely. It was not my intention to cut any part of my body. At that age, I had a thing for fire and knives (I still do). So I was out in our yard playing with one of my collectible knives, it wasn't sharp at all. I don’t even remember what I was doing with it but I remember just feeling overwhelmed and angry, so I closed my eyes and I pulled it back, and then slammed the knife down. I heard a little thunk and knew it hit something. I wasn't until I opened my eyes that I realized I slammed it into my leg. I didn't break skin or anything; it just hurt like a bitch. But, it felt good. I was so worried though, what if someone had seen me? What if I had broken skin and I would have to explain it to my mom?! It wasn't until the middle/end of that year that I started doing it on purpose. I used what I could. It was my escape. They were always small; I made them look like I hurt myself by being klutzy – that was my excuse for all the cuts and bruises. I did this all the way until I graduated high school. Only a few people knew. Only one or two people actually saw the scars. 

My scars are all over my legs and arms. I did them in places people wouldn't pay attention to. I covered up a lot in high school. I always had baggy clothes and wore pants. When I joined soccer and had to wear shorts, I moved from my thigh to my shin, where they would be hidden by shin guards and socks. I tried to stop at the end of high school but it was hard. I gave in a few times. I was more scratching at myself harder than usual to stop it. Instead of cutting, I was clawing myself. I have some faint scars behind my ear and around my body from how often I did it. 

  I did it because it was my release. It was my way of reaffirming that things would be OK  No matter how many times you cut yourself, you could see the scars heal and realize that things eventually heal themselves up. That was my mindset during that time. I kept doing it because I wanted the adrenaline. It gave me energy; it made me able to continue the day. No one knew the reason for my energy; they assumed it was just me being me. It was like an addiction for me, one that I sometimes have problems with.  I stopped completely over a year ago, once I had left my husband. I've learned other ways to deal with problems. I get the urge once in a while. It's usually when I am so overwhelmed and have exhausted every option to deal with it. But so far, it's been about a year and not once have I given in.


Do you have a question you're curious about and want me to answer? Email me at inutehpup@gmail.com

First email will become the topic for tomorrow! 

It's the Way

It's the way your hand slides in my hair
The feeling of your fingers curling around and giving me a tug

It's the way your lips press to mine
The feeling of your tongue as it invades my mouth

It's the way you throw me onto the bed
The feeling that I am your prey

It's the way your arms slide around me
The feeling of your body pinning me to the bed

It's the way I am screaming and thrashing about
The feeling that spreads all over

It's the way that feeling deep inside has come unleashed
The feeling of being alive as your teeth sink into my flesh

It's the way your lips press to my forehead
The feeling of warmth spreading over as you whisper "Good girl"

Quick Update

I <3 the Avengers, especially Captain America!

I want to quickly thank everyone that has checked out my blog. I actually never thought that I would see this blog get close to 400+ views. It was my intention when starting that this be a place where I could come talk about my journey through submission and being a pet. It turned into a place where I could come and express myself. I no longer was restricted to exclusively BDSM, but to life. I'm doing so much better than I have in the past few months. I know I said it before, but it's true this time. I am meeting wonderful people because of Fetlife and they are just a joy to talk to. I have found someone that I do consider to be a pack mate and she means a lot to me (more on that later). Also, I have decided that I no longer will be looking for a Daddy-Dom. That role has been filled. 

I will also be posting up some more stories and poems. I had put a stop to that because I couldn't handle it nor did I have the muse to write. That's changed and I think I have some really cool things to share with everyone.