Last updated October 2004
I first began self-harming when I was around 12 years old. When I first started to self-harm I only pulled my hair out but over the years I progressed to cutting, burning and taking prescription drugs that weren't mine. I can't entirely remember why I first began self-harming but I do remember the intense feeling of control over myself it gave me. My mum began to notice I was losing a lot of hair and took me too the doctor but they dismissed it and she soon forgot about it. By the time I was 14 I had progressed to cutting myself. I mainly used sharp blades from either pencil sharpeners or razors but if I couldn't get my hand on these I would use glass or kitchen knives. By the time I was 14 I had slipped into an unnoticeable depression. In fact I was so good at hiding my feelings that my nickname became 'smiler' because I was always happy and in a good mood. By this time I was facing an immense amount of peer pressure to do allsorts of things people were always saying try this try that have one of these get on of these. Unlike most of my peers at school I wanted to remain a naïve 14 year old rather than be out every Friday night drinking, having sex and taking drugs. Harming myself was my release my way of saying this is what I want to do so I'll do it. Nobody else could tell me what to do when I was alone in my room with only a knife for company. I'll never forget the first time I cut myself, im not sure where I got the idea I'd never know anybody else do it and had never read anything about it. The first time I cut myself I remember feeling very misunderstood and unaccepted even though I was considered one of the most popular girls at school. I'd had a particularly depressing day and without even thinking I pulled the blade out of my pencil sharpener and cut a slash right across the underside of my forearm. I remember watching the blood slowly ooze out and feeling an extremely intense happiness and feeling of control. It felt so right like I'd been missing out on something before. That night I only cut myself once that was all I needed. As the months flew past I needed to cut myself more and more to get the same feeling back but when I did it would put a smile on my face knowing it was my own little secret that nobody else knew and never would unless I chose to let them. Surprisingly enough nobody ever noticed till I was around 16 or 17.
When I was 15 somebody attempted to rape me fortunately they were unsuccessful. I kept this too myself because it made me feel dirty and as I hadn't actually been raped I thought nobody would care. This incident unsurprisingly pulled me further into depression and made me feel like I had little control over myself and cutting was no longer enough for me. I started to burn myself as well but this was a rarity as unlike the cutting I felt the pain caused to by body but this often just made the feeling of control intense. I'd also go days without eating and then binging or throwing my food up simply to get control of myself. Looking back now I cant myself even realize why I did this to myself because from the outside I had an almost perfect life. I had no real reason to be depressed I just lived a different life in my head for a few years. I also occasionally dappled in taking prescription drugs however I was not trying to overdose or kill myself. That's one common misconception of self harm that really annoys me because I never once wanted to kill myself and I know this is true for a number of other self harmers.
By the time a was about 16 ½ I had almost stopped cutting myself it had become monthly rather than daily. By the time I was almost 17 I had completely stopped cutting myself I no longer felt I had too and felt I could control my life without inflicting pain upon myself. But 3 days before my birthday I was tidying my room and came across my blade box and felt intense temptation to cut myself so I sat in the bath and slashed myself all over my body at least 70 or more times. I cut my arms, my legs, my breasts, my stomach everything that I could hide with a jumper and trousers on. This was around the time I first got discovered by my friends.
On my 17th birthday one of my best mates bought me a beautiful bracelet and wanted me to put it on straight way so she could see it. I tried to resist but she pulled up my sleeve to put it on and revealed numerous cuts. After a lot of gasping and funny looks all my friends lectured me, which for me personally made it much worse. They made me look at it for the first time and realize how stupid I was being and that wasn't what I wanted to be doing but even though I realized this I didn't stop cutting myself. For the next year I slipped in and out of cutting bouts. I have tried other ways of dealing with my problems but they rarely work for me. For a brief period I found that writing about my problems helped me. The one form of help I wish is sought is the Doctor. If I'd gone to the doctor early on I could of saved myself a lot of turmoil and unnecessary pain. Im now nineteen and the longest I've gone without cutting myself or harming in anyway is about 9 months. If im honest self-harm has been a large part of my life for 7 years and I have a feeling it will always hang over me and I'll have relapses but I know I don't have to depend on it anymore and im finally happy with my life and feel I have total control over it. I still have a box full of my 'cutting' things but it's hidden away and usually by the time I've got it out the temptation has passed. I hope that within a year I'll have given up self harm altogether but I'd be lying if I said I regretted my self harm experience but I don't its made me who I am and made me more open minded and respectful of how other people live.
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