I understand that this is a really sensitive subject, but I want this blog to be as honest as possible, and, to do that, I need to share my experiences.
I have self-harmed since the age of twelve and still do, though not as regularly as I used to. At first, it was just sharp rocks that were at my school underneath the trees; the sharpest I could find weren’t that sharp, either. But I liked them because I could hurt myself without marks being left behind. My pastoral carer at the school suspected me of self-harm and one time he made me lift my sleeves. However, because of the instrument I used, he couldn’t find much proof, so couldn’t help me. I didn’t want to be helped. I liked the pain.
But the rocks didn’t give me enough pain so I turned to nail scissors. Sharp, small, easy. They were amazing for giving me the satisfaction whilst leaving clean cuts, which had very minimal scarring. I have cats too, so any leftover marks could have just been the cat, or so I said. Eventually, I decided that nail scissors weren’t enough, so I turned to the sharpest knife I could find. And God, did it leave scars.
Once my parents found out, they removed everything visible from my room but they didn’t realise that you can use anything to self-harm. Anything. Your own finger-nails, an elastic band (I used to wrap them several times around my fingers until the circulation was cut off and they were really sore), really just anything. Sometimes I’d self-harm in the way of making myself vomit and I even told people but, because I was of normal weight, they let me go (and probably continue doing it). It didn’t matter that stuff was taken away from me; I didn’t care. I would find a way.
I tend to do it in an irrational moment of madness when my social fears get so bad that I feel I need pain to distract myself from them. Sometimes, I just want the world to end, because I can’t deal with my emotions, and when the world continues to thrive, I cut. Now, it is quite irregular, sometimes being every day, other times I won’t do it for a month. Really, my mood is like a see-saw. I can be so happy and then something happens that makes my emotions go anti-clockwise and I’m sad. It’s a kind of sadness where you want to die but you don’t want to do it to yourself because then your family will be asking all kinds of questions; it’s the kind where you just wish someone would do it for you. The happiness I feel, though, is because of my loving family and pets and, occasionally, friends, though I don’t have many. The sadness I feel is because of everything else. It all adds up. One small thing at a time then another thing and a bigger thing and a massive thing and I’m self-harming.
At the moment, I’m undergoing a lot of stress on my autism at college, because people with autism can sometimes struggle with change and I’ve had so much change recently. FYI: I have had five lecturers for my creative writing course in the just-over-a-year I’ve been there. The classes were also merged. It has been very hard for me. As well as this, I don’t find anyone who I particularly bond with at college; no one who understands me. My main friends aren’t at my college and they’re amazing, but I can’t see them very often.
When I was twelve, something bad happened to me, which I won’t go into detail about, but basically we’re also studying this book in English, and I really don’t want to study it because I’ve heard what the content is from someone who’s already read it and it could be triggering to me.
Basically, I’m trying my hardest to stay clean, but there are little events at the moment that are trying to push me to do it. I’ve emailed my lecturer but she just said “read through it” — and that’s exactly what I don’t want to do, in case I get triggered.
Unfortunately, I feel deeply misunderstood in a lot of areas of my life, and I feel like soon another moment of irrational thinking could turn into some more scars. I hope not but I feel like this desire to inflict pain on myself to distract from how I feel will always be here. It’s been here for five years; it’s not going away soon.
I hope you understand this post and I’m sorry if you’ve had experiences with self-harm. Just to let you know, I’m here for you.