I used to self harm.
pretty badly, too. sometimes I would faint due to the amount of blood I was losing. I have the scars now, which prevent me from wearing shorts or skirts or bikinis. not that I’m really ashamed of them, but they’re so incredibly personal that I don’t want others to ever see them.
I started cutting really deep in year 9, when I was about 14 years old. this continued until the end of year 11, by which time I was 16. I never intended to stop, because it had become a daily routine, and it calmed me in ways that nothing else could. but even though it felt amazing, it also made me feel like a failure. so I decided to stop.
I thought that it would be easy to stop, but it really is an addiction. I relapsed so many times, making me feel even worse, and not helping in the slightest. it was a difficult time for me, because when I was stressed or when I felt hurt, I could no longer turn to the one thing which I knew would soothe me.
nevertheless, I struggled to keep my own promise and ‘get clean’. and in the end it worked. and I was clean for almost two whole years.
until three months ago. three months ago, when I was sat in my room, staring at the wall for almost an hour, and suddenly burst into tears. because I wanted to die. I wanted to die. the realisation knocked the breath out of me, quite literally. I had thought I was so much happier - things appeared to be going my way, finally. how could I have wanted to die, when life was suddenly so much better?
to this day, I still don’t know. but on that day, everything changed. I started closing down and distancing myself from everyone. I wanted to be alone almost as much as I wanted to be around people. it was so incredibly confusing. I didn’t have anyone to talk to, because really, who would I tell, and what would I even tell them?! that I wanted to die? no, not likely.
and it was probably the worst timing as well. my exams were nearing. everything went downhill. my concentration, my morale, my relationships with pretty much everyone. I was miserable. I let myself down in the exams because I just thought, what’s the point anymore?! I don’t want to live. the most important exams of my life, and I turned my back on them.
I started self harming again. however, I’d thrown all my blades out, so I had to think of other ways. I started hitting myself - punching my ribs, hipbones, legs and arms. I was covered in bruises, but wore enough clothing so that no one would see. I started scratching my legs with my nails, until they were raw and bleeding. I was biting my lips, the insides of my cheeks and also my fingers until they, too, were covered in blood.
but it wasn’t enough.
last thursday I bought a proper blade…