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my experience with self harm

I am not entirely sure why I took the path of cutting or why I still do it but I do know that it helps me battle my own mind and what its telling me. I have read other people accounts of their cuttings and why they have done it. Many made me feel guilty as my problems don't compare in the slightest, I am just not good at coping with anger and depression and cutting seems to be the only way of releasing these feeling so I don't need to cope.

The first time I decided to cut I was sitting awake at night, very late, as I had a long spell of insomnia which I had no idea how to deal with and so would sit awake at night and just think of all the things I had dealt with that day. Often it would not be a great deal but after going days and even weeks with no sleep at all these nothings became a huge weight I felt I needed to carry. I found a small, sharp, modeling knife in my room and sat playing with it for hours, I ran it between my fingers and pressed it into my forearm, just to test the waters as it were. I felt a small relief so I pressed harder to see what I could feel and how much I could stand. I made a single cut in my arm, not deep, there was only a tiny amount of blood but I did it again and again and ended with at least 8 cuts in my arm, though they were not deep they made me feel better somehow.  

I continued this behavior when I was awake at night until one night I was playing a gig at a local venue with some friends (my old band) and after drinking a fair amount I was careless with my cuts and a good friend of mine saw them and questioned me. I tried to think of a reason they were there but he was not stupid and so tried to talk to me and explain that it was not a good way to cope but I felt that I had no other choice and no one felt the way I did and could not judge or understand what I was doing. The worst part of the night was that this friend was also good friends with my brother, who I care about greatly, and currently have not seen or spoken to for a long time as he moved away to university. When the friend spoke to my brother I saw him break down into tears and this broke my heart. I felt worse than I ever have before and wanted to talk to him and fix everything that in my mind I had destroyed, but I couldn't, I couldn't face anyone, so I ran. I left the venu

e and walked around the town, alone and distraught for hours.

Eventualy I went back home and told myself I would speak to him and sort everything out, but it was at least a week before i got the courage to speak up. He was nothing but loving, the first person who didn't tell me I was sick or deranged. The only person who didn't say I needed help or counseling. I felt he actually wanted to help me rather than  send me off to be 'fixed'  so that they didn't have to worry about it. 

Despite feeling that I had someone I could talk to and trust, especially so close to home, I continued to cut and to hurt myself as I could not cope with what I was feeling and more that anything didn't want to force that on anyone else so it remained a secret, even from my brother who was the person who I felt could make me feel better and stop the cutting.  

Just writing this is bringing back memories I wish I could dismiss or cope with. I know that this may seem trivial to many people but I am literally breaking down as I write this. I can seem to control my own emotions and go through phases of feeling nothing at all, being completely numb, to times of hyper sensitivity where even the smallest problem becomes the next thing in a list of unbearable issues I cannot cope with.  

As I have grown older I have built up a confident persona which means that I have friends, I have a girlfriend, I should be happy but something inside me wont rest. I cut and then constantly worry that someone I love will find out and I will go through everything I did with my brother again with someone new.  

When I cut the wounds are getting progressively worse, as I said first of all I used I blade I found to just scratch my skin, but I have found that taking apart a razor (normally for shaving) yields some very sharp, unused, blades which I can create deep cuts that will bleed and open up like 'real cuts.' The pain I have in my head makes little sense if thought about rationally, even I know that but I seem to have no power about how I cope with it and few people understand and so it mean I have no one to share with.

The feeling of blood running down my leg (where have cut exclusively for a long period of time now) feels like a huge release and lets all of the thought s filling my head with self doubt, hatred and anger that I have never found another way of coping with. I feel that I would live to be able to deal with my thoughts and problems and tell someone or just be able to stop thinking about them but I cannot. I feel any emotion that I am not sure what to do with, such as anger, and I cut. This is not the person I want to be, I do not want to hurt the people I care about, I don't want to hurt myself but I see no other way to cope or to survive without the release of cutting.

I still struggle with sleeping and when I cant sleep I think about what is happening to me and what I am doing to myself and usually lead myself to harming and watching blood run across my skin. It is currently almost 6 am and I am sitting with 4 fresh cuts on my leg thinking about everything I have written, in tears, trying not to take the blades sitting in-front of me to my skin again.  

I do not want to cut but I do. I am a self harmer. I have only just excepted that, and also only just excepted how much these things effect me. Thank you for taking the time to hear my story, I hope I could have helped in some way or made someone feel better. Thank you again.

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submitted by: fizzy watermelon
on: 21 Dec. 2008
in Ritual

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