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Ging

I’m a Self Harmer

Copyright, Ging

It takes a lot to admit it to myself. It’s easy enough to talk sometimes but it never sunk in what I could do to myself. It was just blood. I cut deeper than I meant to over the new year, I saw my veins and that scared me. It’s an unreal sensation, the release I get from SI mixed with fear, but also a want to cut deeper and end it all.

I couldn’t end it all, I thought that made me weak and gutless. It doesn’t, it makes me strong. Dying is the easy way out.

A friend told me it was my choice, I could beat it but only if I wanted to.

I decided that I wouldn’t let it rule my life, I could and would beat it, I have to. Since then I haven’t cut, yes, it’s only 2 weeks but it’s a start.

If I do cut again it’s a setback, but it doesn’t have to mean that I’m beaten, I just have to start again.

I’ve let the people I care about down. My friends have tried to help me but I’d still rather turn to SI than them. But it’s the last time. They’re more important to me than that.

So OK, I’ve made mistakes and let lots of people down, but if I’m to move forward I have to let them go, the past stays in the past. If I’m going to beat SI I have to remember that.

Writing this has helped me, I only hope that it helps other people trying to beat self-harm.

Untitled

Copyright, Ging

I’m 16 and I’ve been cutting for the past 18 months. It’s hard to explain why I do it to my friends or family because they’ve never done it, how could they possibly understand?

It started when my granddad died, it used to be just a few times a month that I’d drag the razor or knife down my arms or legs. For the past 4-5 months it’s been nearly every day. It’s the only thing in my life that I can control. I can’t change my life I just seem to drift from day to day, everyone makes my choices for me. The only thing I can control is my blood, I control how much I bleed and how often I bleed.

It’s amazing the relief I get and almost satisfaction from draging a knife through my skin and seeing the blood follow it, run down my arm and drip to the floor.

It’s my way to deal with emotional stress and with arguments. I feel so isolated, even when I’m surrounded by my friends I’m still alone. I can write words that I would never dare to say to someone. Sometimes I need to cry but unless I’m completely on my own I can never let my tears flow.

I’ve started to see a CPN at my doctors surgery and although she’s nice I can’t tell her anything below the surface of what I’m feeling, I can’t get the words to express it out, I know what I want to say but looking at someone and saying it is possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to do.

Most of my friends have seen my scars and have visited me in hospital after an overdose but they have never asked me about it, they know I do it but they don’t want to know why. This is hard because sometimes I just need to talk to someone and as there’s no one around I cut deeper and more often. For some reason I have to be outside when I cut most of the time even if it’s only in the garden. There is only one person I’ve told some of this to and that’s because he self-harms. But I don’t tell him much because I know how hard it is to listen to someone else’s problems when you are overwhelmed by your own as it is. I just don’t know where to turn. No one seems able to help me, and I don’t feel like I can live like this. I spend most of my time thinking about ending it all but don’t have the guts to go through with it.

I’m just a pathetic kid, with no real future who isn’t even strong enough to end it all and give my family the chance of happiness they deserve.

 

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