*p r e t t y h a t e m a c h i n e*
Why do I harm myself?
This is all very ironic to me right now, mostly because my parents have just found out that I cut myself, so I've been answering that question quite a lot lately. I can't give you the whole scientific/psychological deal, but I can tell you my story...
It all started when I was upset one night, probably about a year or so ago. I was up in my room, and I was feeling desperate and pathetic, so I did it. I got out a push pin of all things, and I scratched it across my arm until it bled. It was, strangely enough, the best feeling on earth. I was finally in control.
The weird thing about all of this is that most self-injurers have been sexually abused or had something so absolutely awful happen to them that they hurt themselves to punish or control themselves. I, on the other hand, fall into the other category- I, by most people's standards, had a wonderful childhood and loving, nurturing parents. I was not abused and I don't think that my parents screwed me up in any way :-). But, somewhere down the line, I turned into a freak of a perfectionist about EVERYTHING. Grades, music, everything that I cared about or took part in, I had to be p e r f e c t at it. It has never been good enough to be "good enough" to me, and I honestly have no idea why.
Well, obviously, someone who works tirelessly on being perfect- a goal that cannot be attained- is bound to burn out sometime. I think that's what happened to me. About a little over a year ago, I feel into a deep depression and started to have panic attacks (which I think I've had my whole life anyway, but I just started to realize what they were). No one understood how a young woman as successful as me could get sucked in to something so "dark" or "strange." To this day, hardly anyone knows of my personal struggle, not even most of my closest friends. Two people, other than my family- my boyfriend and my best friend- do know though, and they've been so absolutely wonderful to me. It's been very important and crucial having the support that I have.
Last summer, my mom finally gave up on the idea that I was allright and sent me to a counselor who was a fruit by all definitions of the word! She never let me talk, made me feel very uncomfortable, and was convinced I saw aliens or something (which I don't!). Needless to say, she made me feel even worse. I quit going to her, thinking I could make on my own. I was very wrong.
After doing pretty well for a few months and going back to school in the fall, the inevitable happened- I fell again, only this time it was worse. I felt so hopeless and I was cutting all the time, multiple times a day. I bought a set of wood carving tools and even stole a razor blade from advanced biology class. I experimented with anything I could find to hurt myself, even going to the length of burning myself with a lighter and hot pieces of metal. This was about the time that I did my worst wound- I cut open my lower calf one night with an x-acto knife until I could see tendons. The scar still looks awful, and I know it will be there to haunt me for the rest of my life.
After this 2nd episode, I started seeing my current therapist, who has been really great. I urge anyone to search and find the right counselor for you, even if you have to go to several people. It's worth it. Anyways... I finally started to pick up the pieces and things started going better (they still are). I had made up my mind to stop cutting, and ironically, that's when my parents found out...
This whole thing was probably a little more than a week ago. My dad came looking for his x-acto knife (he just started missing it NOW??) and found it in my room. On top of that, I had made the mistake of leaving out my receipt from amazon.com, which had a whole list of books relating to self-mutilation. These three thingsjuxtaposed made my parents panic. They confronted me and I juststood there, not knowing what to say or do. I never expected the moment to come, I guess I thought I was sneekier than I really am or something :-). It even turns out that later on I found out that my little sister knew all along, and she finally broke down and told my mom. It was so awful, I know I've caused my parents so much pain; I can't even describe the feeling that gives me. I love them more than anything, and to see them suffer because of my actions makes me feel so pathetic and selfish. If I could tell you all anything, I'd tell you to tell someone about what you do. It's much easier than getting skeletons dragged kicking and screaming out of your closet.
So, what happened? Well, my parents called my therapist (grrrr) and know she knows. But at least, now she can help me. That's the whole point. If you want to stop, get someone to help you. There are tons of crisis hotlines and counselors who can help you, even annonymously. You can do it, I did. I still have the urges, but I realized that I am stronger than them. I don't need to punish myself for not being "good enough." And if you are a cutter and you don't want to stop, I won't bug you about it- if it helps you, then just stay safe, please. Use clean blades and be careful. *hugs* to all of you!
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