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Anonymous
Copyright, Anonymous
A 15 year old girl writes:
I started in the early spring of 8th grade. I had been feeling depressed all year but I had a feeling it was sort of in my head, like as if I wanted attention. I never told anyone I felt depressed, it was more as if I wanted myself to feel depressed. Anyway, the first time I did it, I was watching 7th Heaven and it was an episode in which one of the charachters has a friend who cuts herself. I decided to try it, just to see if I could. First I used a needle and dragged it across my skin on my wrists, then I used a razor but not very deep at all. My friends saw my scars a few days later, but I promised I wouldn't do it again. I realized I didn't have to do it on my wrists, so I started doing it on my legs, all over them. I'd make long cuts from my knee to me ankle. A couple months later, I cut my wrists only deeper. That summer, I stopped for a month when I went on vacation with my family, then I had horse camp, so no oppurtunities to cut myself. But then, a week or so into high school, I started again. I haven't slit my wrists for a couple months now cuz I have a doctor's appointment soon. I just cut mainly the backs of my ankles (it bleeds A LOT and it's easily hidden by my socks). Also, a few weeks ago, I was on a self injury web site and it talked about burning, so now I burn my hands with an iron, but it's not as good as cutting. I do it not for the blood loss, just for the blood. I've kept all the bloody tissues from every time I've ever cut myself in a bag in my closet. I've thought lately about killing myself, but not seriously. I'd never have the nerve. I just think how I'd be ok with it if I didn't wake up in the morning. Unlike some people, I know I'm not alone. I know dozens of people at my school who cut. I can always tell, too. The things they wear, even the way they sit, or things they do with their arms that don't look natural. I hate it but I can't seem to stop. It has become my life. My friends were talking about it one day while I was there, and talking about who does it and how disgusting it is. I hurried to the bathroom, practically hyperventalating. Right now my fingers are shaking. I think I always thought that I'd get found out (even though I do everything I can to hide it), go to therapy, and automatically stop. In my reading at websites recently, though, I've realized that some people go to therapy and can't stop for years. I hate it, but whenever I promise myself I'll stop, I know in my heart I don't want to, and sure enough, a couple days later I have to again. It just sucks.