scars.. if you saw my upper arms, you'd see they were covered in scars. 'How did you do that?' or 'What the hell have you done to your arms?' people may ask. i did it to myself, i reply. if by any chance you're someone who self harms, then hopefully you'll find what i write here interesting.. but please be warned of potentially 'triggering' content (includes vague descriptions of methods). why? the simple answer is that it's something i do when i'm angry or upset or whatever. everyone gets angry or upset sometimes, so i'm no different here, it's just a different way of coping. some people shout at people, some cry, some get drunk or take drugs, some hit other people, some kick the wall or generally take it out on some inanimate object. i stick razor blades into myself. (and if you were to point out that drink/drugs can also be enjoyable, happy, pleasurable things, well so can being cut) what it comes down to is that i don't consider myself any more depressed than the people around me, it's just my way of coping. so that's why i cut, but how did i come to cut in the first place? i'm not entirely sure. from as far back as i can remember, i had these weird childhood 'day-dreams', sort of like i would think about things as i was in bed trying to get to sleep. i'm presume everyone had their own childhood day-dream things, but i'm not sure if they were the same as what i had. i would often imagine being captured or kidnapped by someone, and then they'd torture me; cut me, burn me, hit me, break my bones. these weren't thoughts i had out of being depressed, if anything they were thoughts accompanied with a feeling of excitement. i don't know how they started, since they go back as far as i can remember. whether i saw something at a very young age which left an impression on me, or whether i was born like it, i don't know. either way, these continued as i grew older; sometimes i would instead imagine having accidents, particularly being in a car crash, or being run over. as i entered adolesence, the 'accident' thoughts became more common, i remember at school there were about three people in my class with broken arms or legs at various times throughout one year, and i remember obsessively wishing that it would happen to me. which i also thought was stupid, because clearly i wouldn't *really* want that, just like i certainly wouldn't really want to be kidnapped and tortured. as i grew older, i also thought how stupid it was, that i was still having these silly childhood fantasy thoughts. up until now, none of these thoughts had been as a result or being angry or upset; though there a few occasions when i was 15 or 16, where i remember hitting and scratching myself when i had been upset. i didn't do much at all. i don't consider that a time when i was 'self harming', but i suppose it was the first instances when i did self harm. then, a month before my 17th birthday, i returned to these 'childhood thoughts'. i was almost 17, and still thinking them? i clearly wouldn't want to be kidnapped and tortured in real life. but i wanted it to be *real*. then it hit me: the reason i wouldn't want it in real life was because i'd be scared, scared that they might kill me, or simply that they'd do something i didn't want. what if i did it myself? that way, it would certainly be real. and i wouldn't be scared at all, i'd only be doing what i wanted. i'd be the one in control, not someone else. so, week one i was sticking pins into my arm and finding how much it hurt. week two, i remembered i had a pen knife, but it was very blunt.. after trying very hard on a bit of skin near my stomach, i got a tiny bit of blood out, and it was *so* satisfying, such a wonderful feeling. week three - silly me - i remembered i had some razors. i remember the beautifully weird combined feeling of shock and satisfaction when i saw blood running down my right leg. after that, i went in sort of cycles. i'd do it regularly (as in, once a day, or every few days) for a period of a few weeks, or a couple of months. then i'd just naturally stop for a period of weeks or a few months. i don't know when it turned from something i just did, to being something i did when i was upset and angry.. but gradually it did. from about the summer of '98 it suddenly became something i was doing all the time for many months, up until about april or may of '99. then i stopped for a bit. then i started again. and so on. if there has been any change, it's that the periods of cutting and not cutting seem to be longer now, but they're still there. [update: it's now Jan 2004, and over the last couple of years it's become far less frequent; something that I do every couple of months or more.] stereotypes the 'stereotypical self harmer' is a woman, and has suffered some sort of abuse / been raped. i'm not, and i haven't. i don't have multiple personalities, or any other personality disorders, i don't have an eating disorder. but there is hope.. the sterotypical self harmer is in their early twenties, has been self-harming since they were a teenager, uses cutting with razor blades as their main form of self harm, and cuts mainly on upper non-dominant arm, wrists, thighs and ankles. i fit all of those. i'm not the only one.. when i first cut i didn't know anyone else did it. i kind of guessed that there must be some people who harmed themselves too; i couldn't be the only person on the planet doing it. but i didn't know. sometime after (a few months.. a year? i don't know) i was channel-hopping on the TV, and saw this program which had a five to ten minute section on teenagers who self harmed themselves. it showed a girl with scars all down her arms.. just like the ones on my right upper arm. they were undergoing some therapy or something. and the program was about "teenagers with mental illnesses" which scared me a bit. a while after, a couple of friends said that they each knew someone who cut, but i didn't know either of these people. then towards the end of my first year at university, i thought to search about it on the internet, and found a whole load of websites on the matter. in my second year, i started to meet people in real life who hurt themselves too. now i know an awful loft of such people. i don't know if it's simply a lot more common that is assumed, or whether people who are similar in various ways have a tendancy to group together, even if they keep things like their self-harm a secret, but these days i seem to know more people who do than don't, and i'm no longer surprised to find out that someone does. coming out telling people you cut yourself in some ways might be seen as similar to coming out about being gay or bisexual. being bi myself means that i can make some sort of comparison.. and for me, it's wasn't entirely the same. with my friends back home, it wasn't a problem. it was a new thing to me, i just told them (probably when drunk) (i didn't exactly have to come out as being bisexual either). when i came to university it was different. neither was the sort of thing i felt i could casually drop into the conversation.. but then i didn't want to keep it to myself forever. but coming out as being bi is somewhat easier.. there are all sorts of ways, and you don't necessarily even have to do so as such; just talk about boys you fancy as well as girls you fancy instead of labelling yourself :) but telling people you stick sharp things into yourself doesn't quite work.. and doing it in front of people doesn't seem right either (where as i wouldn't worry about snogging a boy when others were around) so i spent the first year keeping it to myself, and hoping no one would see my upper arms. then right at the start of the second year, i was a little drunk at some party, and hiding in the corner i had scratched away at a cut i'd made on my forearm a few days earlier. there was a trickle of blood. and some friendly person found me, and i didn't even have to explain. she knew, and said she knew others. i haven't had to tell anyone else as such. a few months later, i was brave enough to wear short-sleeved tops revealing my scars. since then, as i knew more and more people who did it, i realised i no longer had to be afraid to talk about it at all. although I'm glad not to have to hide it among friends, occasionally i still wish people didn't know that about me. the way people may know i do it as one of the first things they find out about me; it used to be my secret. but overall i prefer it this way. though none of my family know, and i never want them too. methods mostly, i cut, and mostly with razor blades. sometimes i use a knife. sometimes i scratch with my nails, or hit myself. i used to burn myself, but i try to avoid that now, due to the particularly horrible scars it leaves. where my right upper arm mostly. it's very common that people self harm mostly on the opposite side to whether they're left or right handed. so i'm left handed, which means i cut with my left hand, so it's more convenient to cut the right side of my body. obvious, really. also, my right thighs, my right ankles.. and also my upper left arm (because upper arms are easy, but my right one is rather covered in scars). sometimes i feel i'd just love to cut all the way down my forearms, but them i'm stuck with wearing jumpers. rituals cutting is somewhat a ritual. but it's not always the same feelings and thoughts. a lot of the time it's angry cutting, just hitting my arm with a razor, maybe angry at others, or myself, or just angry about things that have happened. sometimes, i'm not angry, just upset.. then i cut more slowly and not as harsh. sometimes i just need to get away from everyone, or someone's said something bad to me. sometimes, i really have no idea, like it becomes a habit, or i just have a compulsion to do it; i'm not upset, but i just have to do it. sometimes i get into a weird frame of mind where i decide i really want to hurt myself, that i need punishing. i feel like i'm someone else, and i'm just going to hurt him really bad.. and that makes me feel so good sometimes i cut and think 'ouch, this hurts', and end up doing nothing more running the razor over my skin, making noting more than scratches. then if i go 'up a level', all of a sudden i'm hitting myself hard with it, and suddenly it doesn't hurt at all. it all depends on how upset and angry i am.. and indeed sometimes, how drunk i am. a lot of the time i feel bad if i don't make at least one 'deep' cut. if i make lots of little cuts, i feel i haven't done it properly, and only one 'proper' cut will make me feel satisfied. if i make lots of little cuts, then what a waste - i've just messed up a load of skin area for nothing. it's not just the cuts themselves.. i love the feel of the blood running down my arm, and then dripping off. the sight of red against pale white. the pain? well usually i don't do it for the pain, that just gets in the way of making nice big cuts. though sometimes i feel i need to be hurt. of course the pain probably helps (releasing endorphins or whatever), but i usually don't actively seek the need to feel pain. do i want to stop? a lot of the time i don't even want to stop. though, i *wish* that i wanted to stop.. sort of like 'i want to want'. sometimes, when i'm in a 'not-cutting' phase i can find the entire idea really bizarre, but then the next day or week or month i'm right back there again. that's enough on me. if you have thoughts or opinions on what you've read here, please don't hesitate to contact me at emarkienna at busmail dot org.. and don't forget to sign the Guestbook :) Last Updated: 25 March 2005 - return to index - self injury links - mark

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