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SELF HARM - SELF INJURY

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SELF HARM STORY
Christianity Oasis Ministry has provided you with this Self Harm Story with Self Harm Story truth of Self Harm Story scars and Self Harm Story healing. This Self Harm Story shared by a Self Harm survivor shares their Self Harm Story with Self Harm Story message which can set your free. Only those with their own Self Harm story know what it is like to cause Self Harm. This Self Harm Story program with in depth Self Harm Story support on Self Harm Story healing was created by a Self Harm victim who escaped the darkness that so many Self Harm victims are in and wants to share the map to the way out of the darkness. Let us seek and find the truth within this Self Harm Story with Self Harm Story message and Self Harm Story healing together in this Self Harm Story, shall we?
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MY STORY


 SELF HARM STORY

It started with just smoking cigarettes.  No big deal, I thought.  I started smoking to deal with some anger issues that I had.  At first, it was more psychological for me…

SELF HARM STORY WITH SELF HARM STORY TRUTH AND SELF HARM STORY MESSAGE

I THOUGHT smoking would make me feel better. 

This soon began a habit where whatever harmful coping strategies I picked up would make me feel better. No matter how harmful they were to me. It was a psychological game. My head against my body. My heart against my head. I was constantly battling myself... all the time.

When depression started to hit because I couldn’t deal with the things and events in my life, things went downhill. 

After my parents’ divorce, I had been in and out of therapy already a couple times, and nothing seemed to help. Not the pills they put me on, not the talking to strangers, not the talking to friends, not even NOT talking about it helped. I thought no one could help me.  I was so miserable. 

That’s when I tried cutting.   

I didn’t have friends who cut when I started.  It wasn’t a popular trend at the time.  I saw it on movies here and there and apparently without me knowing, it kind of planted a seed in the back of my head.  When I got so depressed and desperate for something to help me feel better, I thought, maybe cutting will work.  I needed to try something different.  I still remember seeing something that I could use to cut, within my reach, and that’s how it all started.

I only did it a couple of times.  It didn’t work as quickly as I wanted.  But, when I started to feel the pain, I soon understood why people cut. 

It distracted my mind. 

My mind kept feeling the PHYSICAL pain instead of the emotional pain. 

Relief.  At last. 

But, what I thought was an answer to my problems soon became a new problem of it's own. 

I began to discover that if a friend noticed my wounds or scars, they would ask me about it.  It would almost worry them.   

Wow !!! 

Someone cared about me. 

SELF HARM STORY TRUTH WITH SELF HARM STORY BLESSING BRINGING FORTH SELF HARM STORY HOPE

On the flip side… 

When someone I cared about found out, they not only worried… they cried. 

Sobbed in fact. 

Not in front of me… but when they thought I wasn’t around. 

THAT put a different perspective on it. 

I never wanted to hurt anyone.  That was never my intent.  

To get someone’s attention, yes. 

To make someone CRY? 

To make someone feel like it was THEIR fault?

No. 

Did that make me stop??   

No… it made me hide the marks when I knew I would see her. 

I had finally found something that gave me some relief.  I finally found something that took away the numb feeling.  I finally found something that didn’t make me cry all the time.  As much as I loved certain people in my life, I didn’t want to give it up.  I knew I wouldn’t see them every day and when I did, I could cover the marks.  No problem.  They would never know again.  And it would make us all happy.

When a sibling of mine found out what I did, he did it too.  He told me “I wanted to know what you were going through.  I wanted to know what you felt.” 

Did that make me stop?  

No.

I just had to make sure he didn’t know that I still did it.  Kind of the “fake it til you make it” thing. 

With my new way of coping, it helped me plaster the fake smile on so everyone would think I was okay.  When people didn’t think I was okay… I felt like a burden.  I didn’t want to stress anyone out… so I continued to do it so I wouldn‘t be so on edge all the time with my emotions, but didn’t allow anyone to know my secret.

Was I selfish? 

Of course… but I didn’t think about that at the time… and even if I did, I wouldn’t have cared.  I figured me staying alive is a lot better than me taking my life.  And in my messed up head, my habits helped me stay alive.   I never feared I could actually die from what I did. 

At times I would justify what I did wasn’t that bad… because I wasn’t doing it to KILL myself. I already felt dead inside though. I did it so I wouldn’t be so down around people.  So, I wouldn’t be such a burden to people.  I was helping others by hurting myself. 

Yeah… a lie that I believed. 

 

 

WHAT REMAINS

SELF HARM STORY WARNING OF SELF HARM STORY DANGERS AND SELF HARM STORY CONCERNS

I didn’t learn about the scars until later.  How long or short they stay…

I still vividly remember the stories behind most of the scars I have/had.   

I still have scars from my first few times of experimenting with cutting SEVERAL years ago.    I could look at each one and remember where I was, what I was feeling, what I used, and how I felt after.  

Some were longer than others… I usually felt angry when that happened.  Some were more frequent instead of just one or two together… those were when I felt numb.  There were times when I would even scratch myself until I bled.  Until I could feel it.  And yes, those scratches left scars that I can still see.

I would look at some marks and remember that I placed them where I knew certain people might see.  I looked at others and remembered feeling so frustrated and so alone but not wanting anyone to see I cut.  So, I hid them to where I would only know.

There were marks I made out of anger because a friend of mine demeaned how I felt and insulted me in the career I was in.  I cut myself in hopes that she might see for herself how she made me feel and how I really felt, since she wasn’t able to fully understand my words.

Other marks I would see and remember that I didn’t really have a reason for making those.  I was sitting on my couch and the thought of doing it consumed my mind SO MUCH that I just wanted not to think about it anymore.  So, after several hours of trying to distract myself with things, I gave in and just did it.

Other marks were made out of frustration.  In feared that I was not going to be able to get control of my life and be happy like everyone else. 

I notice yet even more marks that I remember doing after an argument with a friend.  I was hurt yet I was in the wrong and I knew it.  I needed to be punished. 

So, I did. 

I wanted to punish myself to a point that I would never forget this.  I would learn from my mistakes and not cause problems with friends that didn’t do anything wrong.

Yet another few marks still remain from the times of going out and waking up in the morning with regret.  So much regret and so much shame that it numbed me over. 

After several days of feeling numb, the only thing to snap me out of it, was cutting.  

But cutting, to un-numb myself from those shameful nights, left marks that CONTINUE to remind me of the events of those nights.  

I have a scar from the time I was told by a “friend” that I was too depressed to hang around. 

I was unwanted. 

Every mark I see on my body, has a story.

One thing I didn’t like with the scarring… was when I was out of the bad moment/day/week… when I was ready to move on with my life… I couldn’t. 

Why? 

Because I was reminded EVERY time I saw the scars. 
 

 

FAST FORWARD A LITTLE BIT OF TIME…

Without me realizing it, cutting had become an addiction for me.  I did it when I was overwhelmed, numb, lonely, angry, bored, ashamed, frustrated, regretful, stressed, needing punishment, wanting attention…  almost anything made me think I needed to cut.

I thought about it TOO much. 

One thing that started to encourage me to stop, was a friend. I found a friend that I could talk to, a friend that would listen, a friend that encouraged me. 

But when trials came again… which they always did… I wanted to run back to cutting. 

I didn’t want to deal with anything head on.   

When that ONE friend could not be around… I didn’t know what else to do.  I depended too much on a human to help.  But, I didn’t know any other way. 

When I came to the conclusion that I needed to get rid of these chains of addiction…

I found a replacement. 

A good replacement? 

Of course not…

But a replacement nonetheless.

I found alcohol.   

I couldn’t make it through the day without doing some kind of harm to myself. 

When money started to get tight… I couldn’t afford the alcohol.   

And I found another way to run without coping. 

Pills.

Pills I had already had, or pills I would take from others.

ANYTHING 

I accidentally burned myself one time… and it gave more RELIEF to me than pain?? 

What is wrong with me?! 

I just needed some kind of buzz to get me through the day.  When I didn’t have any kind of help… my thoughts and imagination would run.  I would think about wanting to die all the time, I would think about what a horrible person I was, I would think about how frustrated I am that I live my life in fear. I would relive horrible memories in my past and walk around in shame ALL THE TIME. 

I couldn’t stand myself or my life… 

Unless, I had a little help. 

It was always something I could count on.  Friends are so wishy washy.  They can only be there for you if they have time, and most don’t want to be around people that are emo or depressed.  I didn’t want to WORRY some of them that honestly wanted to help… so I ran to something I knew would help. 

I DID NOT HAVE HOPE. 

I did not see myself ever becoming worth anything.  I did not see myself ever becoming OKAY.

I felt I was a burden on everyone in my life.   

It was to a point where I had to start taking something in the early afternoon, and then at noon, and then when I woke up.  I started to have to take more after a while because I couldn’t feel just one pill, or one shot, or cut anymore. 

When does it end?   

My relationships are extremely short and what VERY few I do or did have were roller coaster rides.  Of course they were my fault.  If I see a trend in my life, it's not that coincidental… there has to be a common ingredient. 

And it was me. 

I knew it was me. 

So, I built walls, got heavier into my addictions, and tried to stay away from close friendships.  I desperately wanted a best friend, but I was tired of losing people in my life because they couldn’t handle my ways.  So, I had friends that never knew much about me.  I stayed at a distance.   

People that got ANGRY at me for doing what I did… just made me want to do it even more.  I couldn’t handle it.  People that got UPSET at me for doing what I did… just made me want to do it even more.  People that didn’t care… made me want to do it even more.   

I felt so lonely.  

I felt so rejected by everyone. 

I felt so unwanted. 

I felt so unloved. 

My life came to a point where I knew something had to change.  I don’t mean like the other times before…. Where I knew I SHOULD change but knew it was never going to happen.  My addictions were taking over my life.  I wasn’t happy unless I had some kind of chemical in me or mark on my body. 

I lost control of it. 
We're a lot in common. 

I know how you feel.

The only difference...

I FINALLY found the way out. 

SELF HARM STORY TRUTH OF SELF HARM STORY HEALING BRINGING FORTH SELF HARM STORY PEACE
 

But that doesn’t change the fact I know and understand what you feel.

I know how hard it is to want to quit cutting but NOT want to quit all at the same time.

The feeling of relief and guilt because you did it ... at the same time. 
 

But... there IS still life...  
  

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