I was molested for the first time by my brother. After him came his friend, who was very popular. Which made me believe no one would ever believe me. I started slashing my wrists when I was sixteen in response to vivid memories. I would just scrub my skin raw at first when I was twelve but that wasn’t enough to get my anger under control anymore. I never told anyone about being molested until three years had passed. I began dressing in all black and still do.
I am a seventeen year old female from South Jersey. I have been coping with my self-mutilation for six years now. I grew up in an abusive household in upstate NY. My father was a fall down drunk crack head, who when he had nothing better to do, would beat my mother and I. When I was nine my mother decided to leave him. I went with her. But when her boyfriend committed suicide in our garage I moved back with him. He would beat me on a regular basis, for the pettiest things. Like, if I didn’t wash a dish right.
I’m 17 and have been cutting for the last 2 years.
It all started after me and my first love broke up. I was out with a mate, her name was Hayley, she grabbed a rock and told me when I got bored to rub it on my skin. She was pretty twisted I thought but I took the rock anyway.
The next day I went to school with scratches on both arms and it looked like I had fallen over so that’s what I said. I had realised that when I was hurting myself I didn’t feel it. I was taking control of my life which was falling out of control. I was taking drugs and all I wanted was Michael back!