Razors Cut More Than Skin Deep — Love Your BEAUTY SCARS: Part 3
“I was satisfied with not being here.” — Jamie-Rose
Listening to Jamie speak those words almost frightened me. To think that a 16-year-old girl could somehow reach that conclusion is really scary.
By Jamie’s own account, she had everything setup for someone to feel love.
“Privileged, in a private school. I was very looked after.”
But that’s the illusion, isn’t it? Or rather the delusion? That somehow, we can manufacture love through materials. That by giving another person things or resources, it shows that we care. But that’s not the reality. That certainly wasn’t Jamie’s reality. She soon found herself feeling isolated without anywhere to turn or anyone to turn to.
“I didn’t connect with anyone at home…and when you seek that love somewhere else and still can’t find it, you feel very much alone.”
Alone. Another scary thought. But when you feel neglected inside your own home, then go to school only to be made fun of, thrown up against lockers, ridiculed for being different, then alone is exactly where you end up.
Adding to the intensity of Jamie’s troubles was the fact that her mother worked at her school.
“So if I told people what happened, she would get fired. It would destroy my whole life. I [remember] a crazy fight with my mom in the car. She kicked me out and I had to walk to school. I couldn’t tell anyone.”
And then that night. Jamie says she had done research on suicide weeks before.
“It’s fine,” she convinced herself. “It will probably be better if I go. Maybe my mom wouldn’t be so upset.”
Jamie is sitting in her bed. She has one of those packaged razors in her hand.
“I remember having the blanket over my face so it was complete darkness. I had one of those packaged razors and just put it straight in and started going down.”
I’m closing my eyes now. I’m trying to put myself in Jamie’s mind, in her room on that night not so long ago. I imagine feeling fear, feeling sadness, maybe even an odd sense of exhilaration. But Jamie tells me none of this is true.
“You feel numb. Feeling sad would mean that you’re feeling something and really, you don’t feel anything.”
A light is what saved Jamie’s life. A text from her boyfriend the very moment she dug that razor deep into her left arm made her stop.
“My boyfriend messaged me and because I was under the covers, it was this massive light. It’s almost like he knew what was happening. He ended up calling me and told me to meet him [at a park outside my house]. I snuck out and saw him. I thought, ‘you really do care about me. And if you care about me, maybe other people care about me, too.”
Jamie is 21 now, and I ask her what she thinks of when looking at her scar. Maybe some regret, or anger? But no, Jamie’s answer is as deep as the story behind her wound.
“When I look at it, it’s more like I overcome something. It’s also a reminder that I was cared about. It was the start of the change. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t do that.”
