personal · Uncategorized

Cutting It Fine

CUTTING IT FINE

It’s Friday. Usually I post on Fridays, and today is no different except that today my post is on somebody else’s blog.

I’ve loved Lauren’s blog ever since I first read it. She’s written about her past, she’s written about mental health, struggles, inspiration, good days and bad days. She writes about her future (she’s pregnant!), and she does it all so beautifully and so honestly. Everything is personal and from the heart.

When she first asked me if I’d like to guest post I immediately said yes, but it took me a while to actually write the post I wanted to write. I knew I wanted to write about mental health, and I also knew I wanted to write something deeply personal. Something from the heart. A sort of It-Gets-Better for people who have similar struggles.

But it’s scary, right?

It’s scary writing about things you know some people won’t understand. Every time I sat down to write the post, I found myself writing about the reasons why I was going through such a rough time. I got mired in a Swamp of Sadness made up of largely irrelevant (to everyone but me) details about my past, and the post was so dark and depressing and not at all what I wanted to write.

It’s difficult, though.

It’s hard to write about both the past and mental health without feeling like you need to explain, and defend, and justify, when you can no more control or change what has already happened than you can control your dreams.

Finally, I scrapped what I’d written, started over, and got it all down. It’s not perfect, it’s probably not for the squeamish, but it’s extremely personal, and it’s from the heart.

You can find it here:

Cutting It Fine

 

29 thoughts on “Cutting It Fine

  1. You are so brave to speak out about your experiences with anxiety, depression and self harm Quinn, well done you. I’m glad you’ve managed to channel your desire to cut into something more creative, and as you say, aesthetically pleasing. Sending you a big hug right now xx

    1. Thanks, it’s a strange thing to talk about. I know no matter how much I explain some people will never understand, but it’s worth a try. I think it happens more than people realise and I think a big part of the reason why is a lack of knowledge and understanding… Thanks Becca!

  2. You, my friend, are truly a gem of a person. I hate that you suffer (and have suffered) in such a way, but you have proven your strength in many ways; this post being one of them. I’m happy that you have found an outlet for your pain. It’s quite impressive really, the talent you have for the craft. I wish you all the happiness this world can offer and then some. <3

  3. Always adore your writing. Your guest post, however, spoke deeply and directly to my heart. Beautiful written, authentically real, courageous through and through. Thank you gal for sharing!

    1. Thanks Lauren, would never have written it without you prompting me for a guest post. Hopefully it helps someone somewhere or at least… spreads some awareness? I don’t know. I know it’s a hard thing to understand for people.

    1. Thank you! I know it was a bit of a strange post, but it’s TRU FAX! Also that’s definitely untrue, but thank you!

  4. So Beautifully written as always and from the heart as always! I want to thank you for talking about this because for the first time, I understand self harming! My sister used to and no matter how much she tried to explain why, I just didn’t get it! I tried to help her and I tried to make her stop but without understanding why it was hard not to get mad at her or threaten to tell our parents when she begged me not to! I get it now and my heart breaks to think she was going through this too! Thank You for being so strong and sharing this, I’m so glad you are in a better place with a healthier mind ❤️

    1. This comment gave me so many feelings. I obviously can’t speak for your sister, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same faulty reasoning… I’m glad I managed to get it across a bit because I know it’s something that is frustrating and upsetting and EXTERMELY difficult to understand for people. I have never been suicidal. For me, the self-harming was the complete opposite of being suicidal, it was a makeshift, short-sighted coping mechanism for something I didn’t know how to deal with. A sort of survival thing; it wasn’t about harming myself but about handling something as well as I could at the time.

      I hope your sister is living her best life now! Thanks Angela <3

      1. I think your description is exactly what she tried so hard to explain! She pleaded with me that she wasn’t suicidal but I didn’t ever believe her, hiding blades and not leaving her alone, I probably made her worse when I think back now!!!
        She is in a much better place now too, she still struggles with anxiety now and again but I’m sure she has a much better coping system! Thankfully! ❤️

  5. Quinn, thank you for giving us so much of yourself. I balk at sharing a brief encounter with a woman for fear of how dorky/desperate/unsauve I will look, and you take what must look to you as a huge risk of judgement–worry not, for I will not judge you. I haven’t been you….I am not you.
    Your honesty reminds me of an author who wrote a biweekly column on writing in The Toronto Star. Her life had had, and to this day continues to have, many ups and downs–from mental health issues to attempted suicide to marrying an inmate at a correctional facility who used writing to go straight–for a while. I kept her columns because they were full of raw honesty that most people can barely contemplate. Years later, she was giving a reading in a feminist bookstore. I went to meet her and tell her how much I appreciated her honesty. Even now, I pull out the columns to remind myself that writing is about baring your soul.
    I think my writing style tends towards the mysterious because I often forget the details. Kind of like when I wrote about the woman with the tattoo and forgot to explain what it was. So, just in case you were curious her name is Susan Musgrave.
    I want to say so much about your post, but I fear I am not articulate enough to say all that has crossed my mind. I may have to resort to point forms
    I am glad you made it out of those dark times.
    your paper art is amazing.
    Scars are difficult, but the ones in plain sight are probably better than the ones nobody can see.
    Having to answer about scars….I suppose that sucks. In university, I had a friend (who has long since disappeared from my orbit) whose mother had had an accident and was scarred around her eyes. She felt very self conscious about it. When I met her, even though I was told about it, I couldn’t understand what anyone was talking about. I didn’t see any scars. I was told not to stare, or ask about it. I wanted to stare because I couldn’t see them.
    It is awesome that you can think about your future self and draw inspiration from her. She must continue to grow in strength and wisdom to be able to exert such force into the past.
    Your writing, as ever, is rock solid.
    I will continue to read with great enthusiasm.

    1. Thank you Anthony. I guess it’s true that having visible scars forces you to confront them so often that eventually they become a neutral thing. Simply a fact, instead of a wound. Thank you for your story about your friend’s mother. I know what you mean about wanting to stare just to see! And thank you for Susan Musgrave’s name, I’ll be looking her up tonight!

    1. Thanks Roy! No, I just sort of make whatever pops into my head when I’m feeling stressed and then give them as presents! It makes me smile and then makes the present-receiver smile (hopefully!) so overall a positive experience!

  6. 🙏🏻 Quinn my love. You are so brave to share your your story, your wounds and your strength.

    While I touched a bit on my history in my blog, I have still yet to be so vulnerable and put it all out there as delicately and boldly as you did. For a moment, I stopped reading but not because Of a trigger anymore but it was a moment where I shut my eyes and felt truly understood (ironically I found this to be beautiful). Your words hit me, the wanting to feel even if it was dancing blades across flesh. You understood something that I have struggled to put into words or express for many many years.

    Thank you for being so bold, for being the beautiful soul that you are and making others feel empowered/not alone.

    Here’s to you – my fellow strong warrior and to our white fading scars. Beautiful. Well done.

    ❤️

    1. Thank you! I’m so glad you could understand, you can never be sure your words will come across the way they’re intended, and I know it’s a difficult topic to understand at the best of times… Thank you x

  7. I use tweezers to pluck one by one hairs off my calves. And I dig out any mild bump, any potential ingrown hair, revelling in the blood and pain from plucking out a recalcitrant hair. The scars, tiny red dots, of course increase the odds of ingrown hairs and it continues.

    I looked like I had psoriasis when a teenager. I still do it, but less. it soothes. I feel neater and lighter.

    xox

      1. Might be. Never bother diagnosing it bc it never became toooooo disruptive. I just wear pants if I’ve abused the situation and it mostly is manageable.

        But I do enjoy the sensation of release of tension with each individual hear getting ripped out of my body. It’s quite odd.

Leave a Reply