Warning: This post MIGHT be triggering to some of you, so please don’t read it, if you easily get triggered. i’m not glorifying Self Harm or Eating Disorders by any means! If you are suffering from mental health problems, please seek help! It’s important to reach out and talk about it to someone you trust. Don’t make the same mistakes i made and still am making because life can be so much more!
Whoever reads this: You are worth living a happy, healthy life and life CAN get better if you reach out to the right people and get help! ❤
my Self Harm Story
before i REALLY start i need to make something crystal clear: i regret having started with Self-harm. Having those scars made me lose jobs or even not getting them. They make life harder, much harder… If you decide (like me) not to hide your scars (thank goodness my arm doesn’t look that bad – you can’t imagine how glad i am!) all the time then you will have to face people staring at you, asking you questions and although you can decide to ignore those people and also decide not to respond or to prepare yourself with clever responses it’s not easy. There are also mean people out there who’ll either make fun of you or plain insult you when they see your scars. So it’s really not worth it altogether. And most of you want to have a relationship some day… If you have scars openly visible or hidden it will make it really difficult for you to be comfortable in a relationship because you may always feel self-conscious about your scars. Again i can only ask you to get help as quick as possible! It’s so important and you are so worth it!
At the age of twelve (almost thirteen) i was getting more and more depressed. The situation at home got unbearable for me since my Stepfather verbally abused me on a daily base. It’s not that he’s a bad man or evil or wanted to really hurt me – NOW i know that. His approach on parenthood was… let’s say not the best when all of a sudden dealing with a know-it-all 8year-old and also a baby. He never verbally abused my sister really. my Sister appears stronger and also appears to be able to handle everything better (which is i now know only partly true – she has to deal with a lot herself but thank goodness NO mental illness! – SOOOO SOOOO glad about that!!!) Anyway my Sister was a baby when my Stepfather came into our lives and he could teach her things i was too old for – form her the way he imagined a daughter has to be. Unfortunately he also was very jealous of my Dad whom i apparently glorified when i was younger and by doing that hurt my Stepfather.
Back on topic here: There were other reasons why i was such a depressed young person and i will talk about that in future posts.
At one day i made friends with an older girl living up the street and we would be walking to the bus stop together to wait for the school bus. We became friends and i trusted her enough to tell her how much i was struggling. She was a year or two older than me and i thought she had all the answers. One day she suggested to harm myself a little and then to show it to my Mom – basically as a cry for help and not for trying to get attention. At the beginning i didn’t like that idea but for some reason it also made me curious… Mind you, that was before everyone had Internet and was able to research. i don’t know if things would have been different with the option to properly research i’ll never find out. Anyway it might have been the same evening or a few days later, i really don’t remember… Though i clearly remember how i was trying to find the right tool, how i was feeling and how i for the first time ever harmed myself. It wasn’t a cut, it was a scratch but unfortunately what it did to me was enough to make me repeat it a few days later. Of course i never showed it to my Mom or reached out to her… i kept it a secret.
Things got worse and i eventually started to cut. The first cuts didn’t leave scars so i think for about a year i was able to hide it properly. i was still using tools which prevented me from cutting deep enough to produce lasting scars. Also was i too scared that someone might discover what i had done. i didn’t want scars, i wanted the minor cuts to completely disappear after they’ve done the trick for me. Of course i wasn’t aware of the fact that i was already addicted to what i was doing and i thought that i was the only one harming myself that way (keeping it secret and repeatedly doing it).
The intensity of my addiction changed when i was about fourteen or let’s say shortly before i turned fourteen. i lost my fear of blades and frequently used them as a tool . i also discovered better way to hide my addiction by frequently harming a part of my body i could properly hide from everyone.
We went on a 5-day classtrip to the Alps that year and i was more depressed than ever before. The class trip ended with me in the hospital after trying to kill myself for the first time (i will write about my whole experience around that in a future post).
In the hospital i first realized there were other people struggling with Self Harm which partly was a good thing because i didn’t feel so alone anymore. On the other hand all of them were older than me and more drawn into it already. Some of them were actually laughing at me and telling me i wasn’t really harming myself. Words can make things so much worse… Instead of getting better regarding the Self Harm i would put on a mask and pretend i was feeling better just to get home quicker. They didn’t know about my hidden place i would use. So they really thought i’d have improved and released me after 5 weeks. To get out i had to agree to go to therapy once a week.
The therapy didn’t really work, i wasn’t getting better. So i was still struggling badly with harming myself. my Therapist tried hard but i couldn’t really open up to her about my real feelings and thoughts mostly because i was scared of her telling my parents. On a few occasions i would lie to her directly but on most occasions i would simply not share what was really going on in my head. There was one day when i wouldn’t talk much in therapy and she asked me if i was okay, if she could let me go home without her having to be scared about my well being. i said that she could – i hesitated saying that, so she asked me if i’d promise her. i hesitated much longer before responding and before i could say something she said that she could directly bring me back into hospital. i didn’t want to go back so i promised her. i thought it wasn’t fair making me promise but now understand that otherwise she would have had to inform my parents and/or taking me to the hospital again.
After i was back home family life got bad again. my Stepfather would blame me for everything, call me names and since i had gained a lot of weight in the hospital would make sure i wouldn’t forget about that. my parents couldn’t understand mental illness nor did they want to learn. When my therapist one day asked me to talk to my parents about family therapy i told her that there was no point in asking them because they wouldn’t agree to it but she kept pushing me to ask them. i came home and the first person i asked was my Mom. She said, she MIGHT do it if my Stepfather would too so i went to him and the only thing he said to it was “Why should I go, it’s not me being mental” – Nice one huh?
Anyway i continued to see her until i was sixteen, then she moved away and i was without a therapist.
Over the years my Self-Harm became worse and worse well actually with every relapse it got worse. i’m not going into detail about that but i scared myself more than once and i hated that so much!
i’ve quit Self-Harming three times in total but since i’m not the luckiest person in the world and people tend to hurt me badly i had relapses… This time i’m really fighting it. i think that in the past i didn’t really want to stop myself from having a relapse. This time i really do want to fight falling back into old patterns! That’s the major reason i started writing this blog.