I was in the 6th grade and was stressing out over the fact that I didn't get an A on my science project. I started scratching a paper clip on my hand and it was then that I realized punishing myself made me feel better about being a failure.

I hate that I'm not perfect. I cut because I'm not good enough. I starve because I'm not thin enough. I think a lot of us here are perfectionists to a self-destructive extent.

 

I was 11 and my uncle raped me. He finished abusing me and I got up and walked to the bathroom and saw a razor blade. It just gleamed and called to me. I grabbed it and within a second sliced into my arm and wow, this sense of release and power came over me. I kept at if until I was 22. I have words carved into me, places that are scarred from stitches I needed but in those moments of pain & release I forgot about the years of abuse by my father that started when I was 18 months.

 

I started when I was 11 for reasons I don't quite remember now.
I'd always had a horrid family-environment.
I felt sad and pathetic and ugly and so unlovable.

I guess, for me, it's turned from a self-pity type thing to a "I need these feelings to get out of me, I'm so angry and upset and I don't know how to deal with these feelings inside me anymore" type thing.

I've been working very hard on not cutting since January 2014. So far, I've relapsed 3 times.

 

I get these lows where I literally can't feel emotion. There's not even sad, guilt, shame, anger. Nothing. I found that self harm helps me get past that. It gives my body a rush of "primal" feelings - I say that because it's still not really emotion but rather I can feel my increased blood pressure, increased awareness, adrenaline rush and power kind of feeling.

Probably sounds weird. I know. I hate it.

 

(This should've been in the self harm thread; just pointing it out for the future)

Anyway. I thought about cutting for years until I finally done it. I had so much anger and sadness bottled up in me that one day I just snapped and did it. I didn't really think about what I did until hours after when I glanced at my arm. All I could think was "did I seriously just do that?" :wacko:

I thought it would help me let it all out (and it did), but..ya know :/

 

I was 14. I was struggling with trying to self-recover from disordered eating that nobody had noticed. I suddenly felt so guilty for eating and I cut to punish myself. Now I'm dependent on it, I turn into a ball of stress and anxiety otherwise.

 

I been cutting since I was 10 now 36 so I don't remember the first time. I can say at the moment it will numb me from my feeling and thoughts. I sometimes just get a high from it kind of when I use to binge. Yes after I don't feel so great with the marks but while doing it that is a different story. I don't cut bad enough for medical attention because I want no one to know and I only do it where no one will see it. I don't use it as a punishment either. I guess it is like my drug I can escape from everything at the moment.

 

I was so guilty because it was the first time I've experienced a heartbreak. I felt useless and disgusting and like everything was my fault- I've hurt another breathing human being's heart.

I felt like I deserved to be hurt too so I grabbed a kitchen knife (crazy ik whatev shutup) and I cut three little lines into the side of my hand. I felt good afterwards actually. Not a good feeling good, but a strange good..can't explain. I did it every time I was feeling down now it's an awful addiction. I have scars down my hips and down my arms. Someone has actually seen the white scars on my hips and asked if they were STRETCH MARKS, lol..not attractive. I've even had to give myself stitches once. When that happens, you know you're in a very dark place. It's awful. Any cutter would know.

 

i was 13 & raped...went to work with my mom & was feeling soo down in the gutter....i was cutting ribbons for her & nicked my finger soo i was like what the hell it made me feel a little better...then i was like whatever & slit my wrist & had a rush, all my emotions were gone & felt better....then i knew i was addicted.

 

I was really upset. I remember sitting in my room. i had already been self harming by scratching but it wasnt working anymore. I remember pulling apart the razor and holding the blade in my hand and just looking at it. I was crying. i cant remember why i was upset, but i remember just how much it hurt. i felt like i was falling apart. The pain was so intense. i just wanted to die. i wanted the pain to stop. so i cut. and i went numb and calm. and i became addicted. I also cut to punish myself.

That was back when i was 13. im 21 now and still cutting. Sometimes to the point of stitches. my arms, stomach, hips and thighs are covered in scars. ive also carved the words fat, ugly, gross, ew, die. into my legs. its a horrible addiction :/

 

The first time was like11:30-12 on Christmas eve/Christmas. I didn't know what to do about somethings that had happened to me that day. I had been thinking about it for a little under a year at this point. It was the only way I could express my emotions without hurting anyone that I cared about. The sudden rush of blood helped me think clearly. It was a little too deep and my mom found me with lots of blood in my bed. I told her my period started and it was just really heavy. It did exactly what I thought it would. I felt calm and able to think. I know I'm young to cut myself and all that but really isn't this when others started? I'm now addicted to it. Never too deep again.

 

when i first cut myself i was in 8th grade (last septmber actually) I was having a shit day as usual, a bunch of people called me fat, i got a b- on a math test (i'm VERY self critical, and math is my FAVORITE subject i always get A's, it makes me feel smart , but i got a "bad grade", anyways) and just in general i felt like a fucking whale who was stupid, I had debated cutting myself before but this was the first time i did it (obviously) i thought physical pain would distract me from my mental and emotional pain, and it did, my wrist was completly fucked, so much blood, it was..... kinda nice. It made me feel better idk how but it just does

 

I was in 7th grade, and I was just very lost and confused. I went through a bad depression, so I cut because I needed to feel something that told me I was alive. I'm not sure I really had any expectations, I just felt an indescribable urge to hurt, if that makes sense. Afterwards I always regret that I've done something to hurt myself but during I'm a mess of mixed emotions and euphoria. I'm not sure why cutting became my coping mechanism, but I knew a lot of people that also SH, so I kinda felt a sense of community and safety doing what others did, I didn't feel alone anymore.

 

I was 12, and...I was bored. Also I wanted to see if I could handle the pain (I was a huge wuss as a kid, so I took steps to toughen myself up...like walking barefoot through the woods and not crying when I fell or stubbed my toe and shit.)

I didn't truly start cutting until I was 13/14 though.

 

i can't remember the exact circumstances, but it was in 7th grade. i'd started to experience depression starting a year earlier and i really couldn't deal with it, so i think i was looking for a distraction. i wasn't really sure what i should do at first so i took a metal nail file and scratched my arm up... after, idk, i kept putting peppermint lotion over it so it would sting lol. anyway, it was a distraction, especially as it started to heal. if i was having a bad day, i could just press down on my arm or something and feel relief.

from there, it just escalated. my arms, legs, and torsos are covered in really ugly scars... it's been almost a decade since i've worn short sleeves in public. i'm not as depressed anymore, haven't cut in three or four years - i regret ever thinking it was my only option.

 

For me, I read this book and it talked about the main person cutting and they felt release from stress and everything and felt numb. So I thought I'd try it. It was my friend for years and years and then I over came it u til recently. Now it's my friend with ana once again..

 

I was 12 or 13 and I literally do not know what happened. I don't remember why, no idea what gave me the idea, but I'm 23 now and it's never stopped.

 

I was in year... 9? I think? And I had a speech the next day that I just couldn't memorise and I told mum and she got really angry at me and I went to my room angry and crying and I was in a dazed fury, I guess, I rummaged through my room to find something, anything sharp, found my compass and stabbed myself and scraped it across my skin and I don't even remember where I did it but I was just felt so out of control ;~;

I passed my speech the next day and mum told me "See? You did fine in the end!" and all I could think was "You don't know my secret. You don't know what calmed me down."

I was only 13 so of course I can't describe it very well but that's what I remember. From then it was all down hill, and it only got worse with time. I think it killed me the most because a few years prior one of our family friends was talking about how one of her friends did it [she was in her late teens so she wasn't 10 like me thankfully] and I asked her why? Why would anyone hurt themselves? And she said "Some people put themselves into physical pain to escape their emotional pain". I swore I'd never do that but. I did.

 

I was 15. I had just found out the guy online I'd been talking to wasn't who I thought he was. I felt worthless and I picked up my

scissors and scratched myself. Looking back, it was a stupid thing to do and what I was feeling at that moment would feel like a cakewalk compared to how I feel now. Thankfully I quit a year ago and am doing better.

 

I was 13 i think. I had been thinking about doing it for a really long time and one night i was home alone and i was feeling terrible. So i did it and then everything started. Even in the beggining i couldnt go even one day without doing it.doing it actually did make me feel better

 

When I was 14 (so last year) everyone seemed to assume everything in my life was all happy jolly jingles and nothing was wrong and I wasn't sick and hating myself and wanting to die and taking all that out on my skin

Honestly, I sort of hoped someone would notice

 

I was 9 or 10, i was stressing out because i didn't understand my math exercise -_- so i got angry at myself and scratched my skin with my math compass

I wish i never started.

 

I was 13 and that person I don't want to talk about who used to abuse me physically since I was 5 , hit me so hard and slapped me over and over
My face and body were covered in dark blue bruises and blood
He was laughing at me *he's sadist*
I was crying and calling for mom and dad who weren't home
When he left my room I went to the bathroom and saw a razor so I cut my arm open
My self harming got even worse as I developed ana and BED

 

I was 17, in winter vacation. I was in forced recovery and had already gained around 10 lbs and I was forced to eat a warm meal twice a day because 'skiing burns so Many calories' yeah sure.

I was suicidal and depressed as well and after being triggered by several comments ('look, she's eating!' 'no I can't have that, I'll gain weight' 'hey, want some X? You look like you want them' 'seen Y lately? She's lost sooo much weight by eating Z! She's so pretty now') I just couldn't help it anymore and started cutting my legs with scissors. After I realized I actually just cut and saw the blood, I was in some kind of 'high' I just kept cutting. Nobody ever noticed.

The scars are very well visible and a huge trigger for me. My calves always look so fat so I wish I could cut into bonier legs again... :/

 

I was 15. I had just found out the guy online I'd been talking to wasn't who I thought he was. I felt worthless and I picked up my

scissors and scratched myself. Looking back, it was a stupid thing to do and what I was feeling at that moment would feel like a cakewalk compared to how I feel now. Thankfully I quit a year ago and am doing better.

I'm glad you are doing better it really does take a lot of power to quit.