I’m a tough chick! Really, I am. I have a tender heart (just yell at me and see) but I’m a strong person. Very similar to my mama. She’s got courage and strength and I’m thankful she passed it onto me. I wasn’t expecting to come face to face with so much pain….not like this and not in the last 2 minutes of my workday.
She’s a cutter.
I’m a mother. A mother to 3 beautiful young people near her age. I wasn’t prepared for what I’d see. It all started with a girl fight involving she and another classmate. No physical hits just screams in each other’s faces. I was called over in case it turned physical (no, I’m not built for girl fights or any fights for that matter). They stopped and she sat down on a bench. A male co-worker noticed the blood and asked me to confirm it. I called her over and when I asked her what was all over her jeans….she told me Sharpie marker and that it won’t come out.
I could see it was wet. There is no marker that looks the way blood looks. I know this, I’m a mom (we know everything). I asked her if she would pull up her jeans for me to see and she told me that she could not do that. Looking back, I almost wish my mind had skipped the next decision my mouth spoke aloud–“Let’s walk down to the nurse”.
She wasn’t beligerent or even hostile. She walked quickly ahead of me and I followed…not knowing what I was about to see. I looked down at the time as we walked (3:03) I remember thinking in my brain, THE BELL RINGS IN TWO MINUTES! I have bus duty and here I am, heading in the total opposite direction with a blood covered kid.
What am I doing here?
I’ve read about cutters and even looked at photo’s. Nothing compares to the fresh open slices all over a child’s legs. Old wounds mixed with new. My heart sank and again my brain kept working ahead of me….TELL SOMEONE! I went down the hall to one of my principal’s (thank you Lord for him being there). I told him I needed his help and he came right away. The nurse stood firm (she’s brand new & very young) and refused to let the student leave without calling a parent. The principal agreed.
What’s left for me? The reality of a hurting child. A deeply disturbed one with wounds that may never leave my mindfile. How do I process this? It’s too painful for me to describe. I simply want to cry! My thoughts keep swirling and it feels like I have a bowling ball in my stomach.
I don’t even know her name.
Lord Jesus
I feel like I’ve caught a glimpse of something you see all around me. Hurting people. I have no idea why I was allowed this moment and I don’t want to waste it on my own feelings of shock. Help me to pay attention to those crying out in need. Please God, help this girl. She needs you.
Amen
For information on cutters, go H E R E.
Tags: cutter, help, hurting child, teen depression