My story

I have self harmed in so many different ways throughout the years. I began by banging my head repeatedly on a wall when I was maybe in 3rd grade. That lasted until 7th grade when I figured out that if I scratch my forearms until they’re raw and hold my finger over the still raw wound it would make me feel something other than the constant anxiety. I continued to scratch until 11th grade when I conjured up my courage and actually cut myself. It became an addiction and now my thighs are no longer clean. In 11th grade I also began seriously attempting suicide. My first attempt was in March of 2014, I locked myself in my bathroom and filled my tub, toilet, and sink with Clorox. I stuffed a towel under the door and sat on the bathroom floor hoping for something to happen but I wasn’t exactly sure what that was. I never had actually attempted before and the constant thoughts were becoming a reality and although it was what I wanted I still wasn’t entirely sure because dying can seem scary and even I was afraid of it until that day. That day I knew that I wasn’t afraid anymore, now I welcome it. I put myself in dangerous positions because I’m not afraid and that scares me. My second attempt was more serious because I had a plan and a noose made up. I wasn’t afraid and I proved that when I wore that little shoelace noose like a necklace and tried to hang myself from my bed post. However, I didn’t succeed. The distance was too short and the shoelace was too weak to do any real damage that didn’t take too much time. Sometimes I still think about that little noose that I made and I wish I still had it (my mom found it and threw it away), not for harming myself but just for safe keeping.