livelifebyliving:

I’ve done a general post on Self Injury, but I’ve never shared the personal details about my battle with anyone except my closest friends. Some of the things that I’m about to say are things that they haven’t even heard. So, here we go.

My name is Michael, and I was 12 years old when I started cutting. I can’t really explain why I did it, it was more of an escape from feeling the emotional pain that I felt. I felt like seeing the cuts on my arm, knowing that I was physically hurting myself, I knew that I couldn’t get any worse. It was almost something where I said ‘I might as well make myself the worst I can possibly be, that way I can’t get any worse’ (if that makes sense). The extreme release I felt from this was my only escape from day-to-day life. I started cutting to feel some sense of control over the pain that I felt every day. In the end, it just ended up controlling me.

I remember in 6th grade, I was talking to a close friend of mine (at the time). Let’s call her Jane (No, that’s not her real name, but it’s not important). She and I were close enough to share anything that was bugging us. One day, she mentioned that she was cutting. At the time, I didn’t understand it really. I asked her why she did it, and she told me that she didn’t even know anymore. Then as she went on, she urged me never to try it. She told me that I had to promise to never try cutting. I promised her. Little did I know, I was about to step off of a cliff and never be the same. 

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