[...] it's like waiting all year for your birthday, and when it finally comes, insisting on staying home, it's like that night, turning twenty-five in the garage, sitting on top of the dryer with a bobby pin between your fingers, biting off the soft part, spitting it out, letting the phone ring and ring, because all you want to do is this, just this.
My name is Gabrielle and I am twenty-eight years old. I began to self-injure at age fifteen -- so nearly thirteen years -- minus a two year period. This website was made to let self-injurers know that they are not alone and to help their friends and family learn more about self-injury and how it affects their loved one.
