I started cutting when I was nine or ten and it didn’t stop until like last month. I am now twelve. It started when I came home from a really bad day at school where I felt so bad because my friend was moving to New York, The guy I liked was going out with a really popular girl and just really horrible things. So I sat down on my bed and was doing my homework and I pulled out my scissors and I looked at them and I was staring at them for a long time. I knew about cutting from my Best Friend he told me he was cutting and I asked him what it was and he explained it to me and I was really worried about him. Then that day I did my first cut it was’nt deep it was just a little one. I went downstaires and ate dinner and I talked to my mom about cutting and she asked ‘Are you cutting?’ and I looked at her and lied to her and said ‘No I was just wondering’. My sister was a cutter too but she stopped. I stopped because one day I made a really deep cut and I went to school I cut beforr school because we had a huge test and I was really nervous. So I went to school and my friends told me they were worried about me and I just ignored them. In class we were talking and my friend asked ‘Are you a cutter?’ and I trusted him and I told him about why I cut and he went and told everyone. So I went home and and had a lot of suicidal thoughts going through my head and I got a knife and I was about to literally stab myself to death when my mom came downstaires and sat me down and talked to me. If my mom wouldn’t have talked to me and said that it’s better to do something active or talk to me or dad I would’nt be writing this now. I am now not cutting but even when I think about it I look at the scars and then talk to my mom and she says things that make me think ‘OK this is bad and if I do it again I could die’.