“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” – Mark Twain
I remember the first time I saw anyone who cut themselves.  Of course, I had seen TV shows and other films talk about teens doing harm to themselves.  Even committing suicide.  Cutting one’s self seemed stranger to me than suicide.  More foreign to me than committing suicide.  Suicide felt like it had a purpose.  Cutting just left scars.  Why would you want to leave yourself scars?  Then I saw my co-worker and one of my closest friends at work do it.  He carved his name into his flesh.  In a mixture of both pain and admiration, he stared at the letters he had carved into his skin.  I felt lost.  Why would he do that?
Honestly, seeing the look in his face scared me.  I didn’t know whether he teetered on the edge of suicide, or whether he reveled in how the cutting made him feel.  I told him he needed to get help.  But…



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