I decided I better tell my full story so people inderstand me better:
I started self-harming about two years ago. I had an argument with my best friend and this set it off. It wasn’t a serious row; it was quite a silly one to be honest. However, I think this triggered off a lot of my self-esteem issues. I had a really hard time at school and was bullied a lot and I ended up finding it hard to get close to people. My feelings of self worth vanished again after the argument and in order to combat this I started to cut myself. Not seriously at first; surface marks more than anything else. Â
My main method of self-harm was cutting, although, I did try burning quite a bit. This was nowhere near as effective as cutting. At one stage it got so serious that during the school holidays when I was working I would cut before going to work, at lunchtime and then before going to bed. Sometimes I would do it more than three times a day. I was also quite obsessed with how deep the cuts were. The worse I felt, the deeper they had to be. Sometimes if they weren’t deep enough then I would go over them again. I cut my legs because they were the easiest places to hide them. If things got bad and I couldn’t wait until I actually took my trousers off then I would cut my arm but wear long sleeves until they healed.  Â
Immediately before I self-harmed I would feel numb, completely numb. The whole point of cutting was to actually try and be aware of something again because it often seemed like I didn’t actually feel anything. It was quite a weird sensation. Sometimes I also felt quite detached. At times it was as if I was actually watching myself live my life, as if I was watching a film, I didn’t actually feel real and nothing around me did either.Â
When I was cutting I never cared about how much damage I inflicted on myself. The more the better. However, I was always careful to avoid veins and arteries. Self-harm, in my opinion, was not about dying or trying to kill yourself, it was about feeling alive; if I felt a bit of pain then I knew that I existed. During my dark times the cutting never inflicted any pain. I was numb to it all but I wanted to feel – that was the whole point. Whenever I cut, all I could think about was the anguish inside me.
Straight afterwards I always felt relieved. I felt as if I could face living again, I could cope with any silly little problem like not knowing what I could have for dinner or that I had missed the bus. It made me feel ‘real’ again.
Later I always felt embarrassed about it. I used to do my utmost to try and hide it from others; if this meant wearing jumpers in the summer then that’s what I did. I never wore a skirt that would reveal anything. The embarrassment was horrible as I felt completely alone and isolated. I never realised how common it actually was.
I pushed so many people away from me. I used to hide in my room and wait for the flat to empty before I would even consider making food or even go to the bathroom. I avoided phone calls. I always pretended I wasn’t in. If I saw someone I knew on the street then I would cross the road so that I wouldn’t have to speak to them. I became lost in my own world of destruction.
I got the help I needed and I stopped for about 3 months, I convinced myself I was better and stopped going to see the doctor and I stopped taking my antidepressants. Then things went bad again and I attempted to kill myself. I ended up in A&E and I ran away from the hospital and was nearly sectioned.
I don’t do it for attention. I am only telling the world that I do it because I think I may need help ; I self-harm because there is no other way out for me.
8 comments
How is there no other way out? Actually, let me rephrase that, how is cutting even considered a way out? How does it help you aside from the momentary relief you get from it? Is your depression better? Is your life better? The cuts might feel good initially, how good do they feel three days later when you aren’t upset anymore and now you just have this stupid wound that your clothes keep rubbing against?
Cutting really is the silliest thing in the world. I used to do it and now I spend a lot of time on here trying to get people to see the light. How does pain + more pain = better? If life is terrible and you’re unhappy and depressed, someone explain to me the logic of cutting your own flesh?
I’m well aware it creates a temporary rush when you cut. You know what else does? Exercise. Exercise also boosts your mood and combats depression.
For all the people who claim they aren’t cutting for attention and aren’t doing it to be emo, then it’s simple: stop. It really is the most dramatic and attention seeking action you can do. If you claim that’s not why you do it, then do some exercise instead. It really works in much of the same way. Ever hear of runners high? Your brain releases a lot of happy chemicals when you exercise. You get a little dose of those every time you cut too.
If you’re tired of having to wear heavy clothes in hot weather just to cover scars, if you’re not doing it to be dramatic or get attention, then stop. Go for a run, do pushups and squats until you can’t move anymore, the next day you’ll wake up and your muscles will be sore, you still get that little dose of pain that you want to inflict on yourself, except no scars, and you’re actually doing something worthwhile with your energy. And who knows maybe as your body gets healthier from a little bit of exercise your brain might start to feel better too.
Thanks for reading this.
Well cutting for me is just a quick physical way to deal with the emotional pain I can’t deal with by myself. No my depression isn’t better, the good times in my life are amazing, the bad times are some of the worst.
I have tried lots of things to stop already exercise, talking to a trusted friend, cutting up a block of wood, Painting, Drawing and poetry but I always relapse.
I had stopped for three months but I couldn’t bare it anymore so I just cut,I made the deepest cut and then I forced myself to eat about 24/26 paracetamol (a painkiller) and then I passed out. I’m not sure what happened in the next few hours but I woke up in hospital. I was connected to a life support machine but I pulled it out of myself and I just ran away and that got me into trouble. Everyone thinks I have stopped now but I burn more at the moment as its easier to hide than the cuts.
Thank you for sharing more information with us, I appreciate the fact you try to open up to us and explain your problems.
I don’t know how to comment about the cutting itself since I personally don’t know if it’s as bad as others may portray it. Perhaps it’s alright to do it and perhaps it’s horrible, I’m just not sure.
However you did write “I think I may need help” (Which means you admit to have a problem that you can’t solve on your own) right after you wrote you stopped taking the anti – depressants by your own accord and that you escaped from the hospital. Why did you do that? The facts are that you got better on the anti-depressants and now, when you are off the medication, you feel awful again. These facts mean that the medication helped you! Why not go again and see a doctor about how you feel?
I know how hard it is to admit you feel horrible and that you can’t deal with it yourself. I tried to avoid seeing doctors and therapists as well. I hate the fact I can’t solve my own issues. But, you did admit to feel better on the anti-depressants compared to when you weren’t on them.
Could it be that our “illness” this horrible depression is indeed a chemical imbalance as the doctors say? If it is a physical illness then avoiding treatment for it is identical to having your arm broken and then refusing to go to the hospital for it to be treated.
Furthermore you wrote “I became lost in my own world of destruction”. By using the word destruction you gave the sentence a negative sense. That is again you admitting that you suffer in your current state and, in a way, you wish for it to become better.
You also wrote “I self-harm because there is no other way for me” which is simply not true. Things were better! I know that this bloody depression suffocates us and messes with our head, including our memories. It portrays everything that was once good as bad, black and horrible. You need to remember things can be different, and try to cling on to that thought. It’s obviously easier said than done… Hell, I can’t do it myself. This advice is probably idiotic and doesn’t actually give you anything but perhaps, even if just a little, it will make you rethink your current state of a dead-end.
I think that the doctors might really help you if you’d just try to cooperate with them. I hope that I feel better and stop hurting as you do now. If you’d like to talk me I’d happily chat / e-mail with you or something of that sort.
I wish you nothing but good,
Oak
Argh, for some reason this site doesn’t like my comments and sees them as spam… If this comment does get published, please go to the comments and then the spam section and read what I wrote to you. I hope you do get this message.
Oak
Is this your comment?
“It’s funny that you describe it as you do, since I feel exactly the same.
The common argument for everyone around me is that I should keep on going because they honestly believe that something will be different!
When I ask what can be different, they have no answer. At first I was curious, what is this extraordinary thing which could give me the strength to keep on going.
However it has been 3 years since I’ve been “diagnosed†with clinical depression and it has been 2.5 years since I’ve started treatment on medication. This “thing†has yet to come and as far as I can see and as far as I can imagine, it won’t come.
That argument is silly and just fuels my depression further.
People live their lives without an answer, without anything, and they seem happy about it. No one knows and no one can explain why they struggle with this exhausting life. But apparently, they all manage to simply ignore the questions and pain that burn at the back of my mind.
Futility, overwhelming sadness, void, empty at times, anger and tiredness are only a few words that can describe what I feel. All these lead me as they did to you to a conclusion that suicide is the optimal solution to a problem that has no solution.
However, as I found out, suicide is a horrible thing to do. The thing that tormented me the most was the cries of my family, of my friends, as they discover I’ve killed myself. Some say that the way people feel while depressed is often similar to the way people feel when they lost a loved one.
After knowing what feeling it is, I do not wish to inflict it to anyone else. No one deserves this horrible thing.
All these circumstances have lead me to today, where I am a puppet controlled by those who love me that wish for me to stay here. These people have become my “purpose†if you’d like to call it.
This is by no means a solution to my problem though. But I can’t do as I like since it affects those who are around me, those who care for me and those who didn’t care enough and will feel guilty for the rest of their lives.
I know what I wrote isn’t comforting in the slightest, however, I wanted you to know that you aren’t as alone as you might think. Yes, if you are as I think – similar to me somehow, we are indeed a very scarce type of people.
The bottom line is, suicide is no longer a question to me. I can’t do that and I will never do that. Those people around me who do somehow manage to find meaning, purpose and happiness in life, will suffer unimaginable pain if I do depart from this wretched land. I don’t wish to harm anyone, I try to cause as minimal damage as far as I can during my life because I suffered, and I know, in a way, how horrible it is.
I wrote a poem about this about a year and half ago:
Imagining what they’d feel,
makes me live my life as if I’m slightly ill.
I know that if they knew what I think,
they would certainly need to go and have a drink.
I can see the tears on their faces,
when they hear that I’ve crossed over the fences.
Anyhow, I am sorry that I feel so horrible, if you wish to chat you can contact me at Oakotler@gmail.com mailto:Oakotler@gmail.com and I’ll “happily†talk with you.”
his comment is in the pending section
Oh yes, I’m sorry that comment was sent to spam , that was a comment to Tom Davis. my comment is indeed in the pending section. I’m sorry about the misunderstanding due to my error.
That’s okay I’m new to this site so I didn’t know how to work anything 🙂