I am looking for support but am not sure how to get what I need. I can’t talk to my family because my sister is my only family and she has her own issues. I have to be there for everyone else and that is really hard. Also I was taken from my parents at 13teen for abuse and moved around in foster care. I am still in the system until I am ninteen. Sorry for rambling on and on but I just am having the hardest time finding people to talk to and relate to.
i’ve been caught in a craze for the last few weeks. My first real post here since i moved from my previous SI site. I can’t stop the cutting. am fully triggered and off. cutting no less than five stripes per day. this has been the routine for close to a month now. my wrists are a total mess, scar on top of scar on top of scar. I can’t wear anymore bracelets in fear of drawing more attention to the area that is already apparent. am so frustrated and i can’t get a handle on myself. i’ve nvr travelled outside the areas of my usual addiction which are my wrists, but the idea is presenting itself in my mind over and over, wanting to go deeper, longer.
My life is very public, “hmm maybe i should say highly public” some ppl know, and that isnt the point i suppose. maybe its the stress, not sure, but i feel like im driven to make this craze such a reality that the only way i can deal with anything is with the further destruction of myself. my feelings of inferiority. is so fucked. i won’t tell the ones around me that are the closest, that all my demons are sitting at the table and hanging out with me on a full time basis. My Si is out of control and ana no better.
Im not shure what to right in this blog,never done one before. For that matter I dont know how I ended up using SI so much latly. I supose That the whole thing started back in high school. Once in a wile I would cut to cope and this worked out prity well at the time. My mental illness was just starting back then I was soooo depressed most of the time. Now I am 34 and still strugling with SI and with other mental illnesses.
i am 16.
i have 8 years of self injury under my belt.
i desperately want to understand myself.
i know why i did somethings but not others.
i guess i’m seeking others who know why self harm is such and addiction.
ive been trying to stop SI-ing… i actually dont feel guilty about it at all (my friends are worried). ive been trying to use a rubberband bracelet but it doesnt seem to work very well. i didnt SI for one day and now i feel like im going to explode… can anyone suggest other type of coping methods i can try? any help would be very welcome. thank you.
I was talking to my friend who has known about my cutting for about 4 weeks. She ask me what age I started cutting at. I told her the day before my 12th brithday. She looked at me with shocked, and said ” 11!! That’s way too young to cut! Your fourteen and that’s still to young! You should at least be sixteen when you cut!”
Which got me thinking…
- Why would you even care what age I cut at?
- Was I to young when I started cutting?
- If not what would be a young age to start cutting at?
- Do you belive you should be sixteen when you cut?
I myself answered this question on one of Gabrille posts, What age did you started cutting at?
I gave my answer to find that most of the people answered 12 to 15. Which surpirsed me cause that is what my firend said where your to young to cut. I also googled it to, to find that most thrid world countrys and USA have teens and kids who cut ,SI or SH at younger ages every year.
For those who don’t know SI stands for Self-Injurers and SH stands for self-harm.
It never fails, I push you and and you draw me closer. I truly do not understand you, why do you bother with me? I tell you ..I do not want to be here anymore. You tell me why I need to be here. You get me more than my family does. They just want to bandage the issue. I know they care, but I think I am to much for them. I know I scare you , baby. I know you loose sleep over me . You tell me you are here for the long haul. Do you reliaze how long that could be? Do you really love me that much? I am your angel of the morning…and we know how that song ends. I need you in my life, I want you in my life. I just really do not know how much more of life I can take. I am afraid of what I can do to myself. Iam afraid of hurting everyone. I know life is not the cheerleader world I came from. I know not everyone is like my rapist father, foster homes, abusive mothers that love to hit their child because “daddy” paid more attention to them and not mommy. I see horrable things at work, you know this. It hurts to see other children go through the same thing.
I’m scared, for myself, for my family, for my friends. I don’t want to stop cutting, and I don’t know, thinking this way makes me feel like a freak. I don’t want to stop. What’s wrong with me? My friend cuts now. She saw my cuts, that’s where she got the idea.
I’m causing a little too much pain, and I hate it. But I can’t stop.
Well this is my first blog entry, probly because I haven’t cut for a while. About 2 weeks ago my mother saw that i had burns on my right arm, and she totally freaked out. Kept asking if I needed a councilor or medication, or something. I told her I didn’t need any of that stupid stuff. I also told her that it was my first time trying SI. That was a lie. I started much earlier before that. Either she isn’t very observative or blind. I’m guessing the earlier one, cause 3-4 times I had noticeable cut marks on my lower wrists. My sister had noticed but i was able to brush her off by making up an excuse. After having cut on my wrists and knowing how visible it was i moved on to my upper thighs, which is probly the reason no one has noticed, that is until the burns.
Hello there, I’m Andrea. I’m nineteen years old, nearly 20, and my life has never been the fairytale I desired it to be. For years, I wished for the miracle cure to all of my problems. But never found one. I always relied on other people to help me, never seeking to help myself, and always found myself disappointed and alone. I’ve been a cutter for about 7 years. It started as something I did when I was hurting on the inside, something I did when there were no words to describe the anger, the pain, the depression. But it turned into an addiction. I started to mutilate my skin when I was anger and sad, of course, but even when I was happy I’d find a way to run off to my room and get my lucky box of double-edged razorblades. Nothing ever helped.. the medications, the therapy, even the time when my own father took one of my blades and sliced up his own stomach to help me to realize the fact that my pain was his pain. I’m no miracle-worker. I’m human, with flaws and with imperfections. But I’ve come to realize a few things. For example, life is what you make of it.