Several times a month I hear from frantic parents whose teens have exposed an addiction to cutting. As much as I vocally persist in pushing them toward psychiatric treatment. They want their sons and daughters to talk to someone that's beat the battle. I share deep conversations with them based on the enormous amount of time I spent with psychotherapists that reached deep inside of me to help locate a clue. They studied me. I studied them. They taught me to study me. I know of the reasons and still find it difficult to deal with today. But I hold in my fingers not a razor or sharp object. But a gift. Not from a doctor but my creator.