Help

Spoiler

I'm not going to lie I still struggle with cravings and I have relapsed a few times. But since this day the need to cut has diminished incredibly.

I sat upon my bed, staring at the thin scars on my wrist, my skin crawling, aching restlessly for the focusing pain that cutting brings. The calming effect of seeing blood spill from a new slit on my arm, how I then would take toilet paper and staunch the bleeding, only to pull on the cut to see it bleed once more. Oh how easily I could imagine myself at that moment holding a pair scissors sitting on the toilet gauging the depth of the ugly incision. I shivered with desire.
I was crying, this episode of craving caused by something or another I had been cutting on and off for years. Over that time I found myself driven to self-destruction easier and easier. I had told my mom about the cutting, I said I would stop. But I didn't realize how hard that would be. I wanted to be done with the craving, the scars, the stressful cover-ups, the awkward questioning. This needed to stop. Don't ask me how I came to this turning point I'm not sure how I got there, all I knew was that I was done.
I pounded my leg in anger. I hated myself at that moment, I hated what I had let myself become. And now, I HATED the sight of my scars. Distressed I ran a fevered palm over the healing slices on my right wrist; over the shallow 2 inch scar on the top of my arm just below my shoulder. That mark had been a test. Seeing if that spot held the same release of emotion I felt when bleeding my wrist. Unfortunately it hadn't. Somehow that part of my arm hurt to much, it didn't bring focus, only dizziness. If I couldn't get a cut deep enough to bleed without my eyes swimming it wasn't worth it. Finally I dragged shaking fingers across a small yet deep cut just above my ankle. I rubbed each flaw desperately, trying to will my hand into an eraser.
I didn't know what to do. I felt trapped, stuck inside a nightmare I had now understood was reality. Guilt wrapped it's claws around my heart, I felt sick. Sobbing, the ramifications of my actions, hit me like a truck; Eternal scars, constant urges, always knowing I had a pair of scissors waiting. I didn't deserve God, although my soul was wanting me to cry out to Him. He had created this body, this temple, He said not to mark it, but I had; repeatedly. My heart, mind, body and soul were crying out for God. I gave in to the pull. "Father! I'm so sorry, I'm sorry!" I said quietly, the rest of the words mumbled in guilt ridden gibberish. I needed to explain myself. "Father-God..." I spoke, I feel like I need to fix this because I started this." Hot tears dripped into my mouth, The taste of salt on my lips. I scrubbed vigorously, my cheeks flaming, body sweating with the exertion of emotion. Grasping the disfigured wrist, I couldn't stop the longings to cut and the emotions behind them. Panicking thoughts raced through my head. Once a cutter, always a cutter. Terms that I wished; hoped, weren't true. Knowing that I had dug a hole for myself that I couldn't get out of. What if I never could climb free and live my life without these harsh needs?
Reluctantly, speaking a little louder, I looked up at my bedroom ceiling, and said. "I need your help,... I need it so bad. I can't do it on my own, and I don't think I ever will be able too." I blubbered on repeating my SOS over and over again.
All of a sudden my heart became light, throughout all my previous prayers, I had never asked for help. I felt a burden had been lifted. Appearance disheveled, tears traveling down my neck, but I felt a smile creep its way onto my face. Re-uttering my plea for a ladder, my soul stirred within me. I was free of a guilt I had carried unknowingly.
"Thank you, God, thank you." I rejoiced.
I now realized I have someone on my side, I guess He was there all along. I just had to admit I actually needed help, and I needed it badly. I had to push pride away. I couldn't fix everything, especially myself. I thought to myself. "I guess it's true what they say. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem." Hah! "What a cliche!" But some how it was true.
Later that night I went to bed with a grin on my face. Singing loudly along to my Ipod with lyrics that said, "How great is our God, sing with me how great is our God and all will see how great is our God." This time I didn't care who heard.

Wow, your story is very (very) full of emotion. You have a great writing style, that's very unique. I didn't find any gramatical errors, so thumbs up to that. I also like how you weren't afraid to post something about God, it show's that you're not afraid of what others think, and you can stand up for what you believe in, way to go! Good luck, have fun, and keep writing great stories!
~Zanna Shepherd

First off: glad you're okay now. Keep it that way =) If the subtitle is true, then I truly feel for you because even the best of us get confused and self-destructive.

Second. I won't let the above taint my review. Okay? Writers write so readers can read and we all know full well that critics will critique. And for the benefit of the writer, critics shouldn't let the "truth behind the story" change their feeling about the story. For example, a bad story about the Holocaust will still be a bad story, right? Please don't misunderstand, though, I'm just saying that your piece could use focus, truth, rewording, and punctuation.

So I'll be honest in my review:

the sweet pain that cutting brings. The calming effect of seeing blood spill from a new slit on my arm.

Can you give us some deeper insight into this? I don't know how long you've been on this site, but we've seen the words "sweet pain" and phrases similar to yours (such as "the release of cutting") a million times on this site--from people that actually cut or people that knew people who cut or people who just imagined what it was like to cut.

When we can't tell the difference between a 1st-hand-account, a 2nd-hand-account, or an nth-hand-account, it means the 1st-hand-account person didn't do a good enough job of convincing the audience. What you should give us is some unique truth, some authenticity, some genuine words such that we know for a fact that (or at least wonder if) the author herself cuts.

caused by an overwhelming feeling of self-loathing.

You're kind of stating the obvious here. Either don't bother stating the obvious or wait to do it at a moment when it bears the full weight of emotion. For example, if you were describing someone you loved, the best way to do it is to talk about all the things you love...but don't actually say, "I love him" because such trite words cheapen it (unless spoken during the grand finale). So to come out and say the cutting was "caused by self-loathing" cheapens it a little.

unfortunately it hadn't

Why not? Any thoughts? Also, capitalize that U.

Sobbing, the ramifications of my actions, hit me like a truck

You're saying this like the realization of guilt is different from usual. Why? What makes this one instance different from the others? Whether you know it or not, something changed...but nothing changes on its own. So think, reach down, and find out what suddenly made this event different. Then tell us, so that we know, and so that we believe you.
For example, consider a husband that cheats on his wife for years. And she knows. Then one day he says, "I love you! I'll be true to you. Things will be different." And stuff like that. Should she believe him? Why? It's been that way for years, and some boring everyday words don't hold profound truth. Now, for example, what if one of them has a near-death experience or they have a child or he goes on a 6-month business trip and in his loneliness he realizes...profoundly realizes that he loves his wife. Then, he communicates that to her. That's a catalyst for change.

I finally gave in to the pull of the Holy Spirit.

And again, why? Why "finally"?

"Father-God..." I spoke " I feel like I need to fix this because I started this."

Proper punctuation would be:
"Father-God," I spoke. "I feel like I need to fix this because I started this."
or
"Father-God," I spoke, "I feel like I need to fix this because I started this."
Since ellipses wouldn't really work like that and note the punctuation after "spoke."

Warm salt-water dripped into my mouth.

Not a fan of tears being described as "warm salt-water." Perhaps "I tasted salt on my lips. Tears were streaming down my face." or something.

Scared to death, I came to realize I had dug a hole for myself that I couldn't get out of

Again, what changed?

I was officially panicking.

Unless you're going for the teen girl tone here ("like O-M-G, I was totally panicking"), I'm not a fan of this line. If you want serious, then stop after "What if I never could climb free and walk unobstructed?" Also, perhaps you should think of another phrase besides "walk unobstructed" because it just sounds weird, vague, and generic.

and said. "I need your help,

"and said, "I need your help,..."
is the proper punctuation.

I need it so bad." "I can't do it on my own,

Excessive quotation marks. It's one person continuously speaking.

All of a sudden my heart became light, I felt a burden had been lifted.

So this is all it took? I understand you attribute it to divine intervention, but can we get anything more than "I was free of a guilt I had carried unknowingly." Anything deeper? Anything specific?

I felt a smile creep its way into my countenance

Find a word other than "countenance." "Countenance" is so old-timey, something you see in Shakespearean sonnets and whatnot. It's useful sometimes, but not in this instance.

Later that night I went to bed with a grin on my face.

Not a very strong ending. Would have been stronger perhaps if smiling or not smiling was a recurring theme in your piece, but as it stands, it's just lacking in oomph.

Hi, thank you for the review it helped a whole lot! I have edited the story now would you mind reading it? This is a true story, I guess its really hard to describe feelings I have been dealing with a long time and it was stupid of me to think people would understand the exact nature of them. I truly appreciate you reviewing the mechanics and nit-picking because when I submitted this I knew it was missing something I just didn't know what. Anyways if you would please reread this I hope I will be able to tell my story to you better this time. And again thanks.