I guess it all started when I was twelve. My dad had kicked us out, and it was hard. Lots of girls at my school was doing it, so why shouldn’t I? At first I guess I was a little scared. I started by using a metal strip off of a ruler, but it didn’t hurt that bad. So, without even knowing it, I switched to anything that was metal and broken. I would just start jabbing and cutting, not even thinking about the consequences. Then my mom found out. She was devastated, and threatened to put me in a mental institution, if I didn’t stop. Of course that didn’t help. It only made it worse. So worse that I started using a razor. It just felt so good, and it released the pain. But then, my teacher saw. She told and then they told my mom. It was horrific. She put me in an institution for about three months. All in all i can say it helped me. I am now fourteen and have been cut-free for I guess half a year. But, there still isn’t a day that goes by, that I don’t just stare at my arm, wanting to feel the release again.
I was twelve years old when I started cutting. I only wanted to get rid of all the pain. I didn’t want to live anymore. It all started when my mom and dad divorced. We moved from state to state. I hated it. Then we finally settled down and I met some new friends. They were all I had. Then one day they said I was an attention whore and they cussed me out and dumped me. Then my dad started abusing me. That was really bad. I could always handle it but then I was raped by a man I didn’t even know. That was when I couldn’t take it anymore. I started cutting. I thought I could stop, but I couldn’t. Then when cutting wasn’t enough I statrd starving and cutting. When that wasnt enough I tried to commit suicide. I slit my wrist as deep as I could, but my mom found me before I bled to death. God. Then she put me in a mental institution till I was thirteen, almost fourteen. She took me out but gave me up to someone else, saying ‘I just can’t take you anymore’. I have gotten better and don’t cut as much now.