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TW TW TW i sort of need an outsider’s opinion, do i make any sense? i guess this is sort of my sh journey, which sounds horrible. but i really need to get this out there because like most ppl on this site, i have no therapist. basically it started when i was around 12, a little before my parents split. i was really depressed that summer, and i had read about a girl who self harmed in a book, so it was sort of in the back of my mind. anyways, i had this really old and dull swiss army knife, and before i knew it, i had just barely scratched my hand, just to see what it was like. well, it sort of worked. it was more than a scratch, and i was kind of exhilarated by what i had done. i put the knife away and went on with my life. i was staying at a hotel, and they gave us this complementary sewing kit, with some thread, a needle, and a safety pin. i dont know why, but i pocketed it. when i got home, i used the safety pin to scratch my arm, and because it was so pointy, it made every scratch red and raised. that was enough for me. i did it on and off for a bit, then when i lost the safety pin, i moved on to the needle. i never really scratched deep enough to draw blood, so i didnt have any real scars, it would all just go away within a week. thing is, i had to do it more and more frequently because it wouldn’t last. this went on, then an eyebrow razor i had broke, and i peeled off the bumpy sticky edge to reveal a real razor. i used it, and nearly drew blood, so i was satisfied. this lasted maybe a year. then, i decided to try and get clean. that lasted maybe a few months. i fought with my dad, i cut. i fought with my dad, i cut again. it was a cycle. i was only clean if my dad was in a good mood. then, i saw this picture of someone who had self harmed, but their cuts were bleeding. i suddenly felt like all those years i spent cutting didn’t really count. so i grabbed my razor and smashed to frame to get the smaller razors. they didnt look very sharp, so i used one. nothing happened at first, so i did a few more lines. i look away for a second and suddenly my arm is covered in blood. thats sort of an exaggeration, i wasnt bleeding out or anything but it was more than i had ever done. i didnt realize how sharp razors are. i sort of just got lazy and stopped cutting after that. then i stopped feeling again, and i started cutting. then i went on vacation and realized i fucked up my body and my scars were pretty visible. i decided to stop. then i read a book, and one of the characters self harmed. i cant stop thinking about it now. i dont sh when im sad, or when im angry. i just do it when its convenient or when i think about it. i dont think im depressed, but hey, maybe i am, idk, im not a doctor.
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Cutting becomes addictive so leave more time between each time you do it until you stop altogether.
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