What's Your Story? **SI**
- BringMeToLife
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I started throwing myself around when I was about 7. I'd pretend that I was in a fight and that I was getting bashed. I throw myself on the floor, bang my head against walls and twist my body.
Once it was over I felt calmer and the relief was instant.
I've only just learnt (a matter of weeks) that It's related to SI... or is SI should I say.
That carried on until I a few months ago when I started cutting.
I did it because I'd just read a book that went into a lot of detail about cutting and I was curious (still not relating the self-bashing to cutting).
I did it once and I liked it, but told myself I wouldnt do it again because I didnt need to.
Now I want to know why I do this so I can prevent myself from doing it.
Once it was over I felt calmer and the relief was instant.
I've only just learnt (a matter of weeks) that It's related to SI... or is SI should I say.
That carried on until I a few months ago when I started cutting.
I did it because I'd just read a book that went into a lot of detail about cutting and I was curious (still not relating the self-bashing to cutting).
I did it once and I liked it, but told myself I wouldnt do it again because I didnt need to.
Now I want to know why I do this so I can prevent myself from doing it.
- Lone_Jester
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Mine started in kind of an odd way.
When I started high school things became overwhelming, and I became slightly depressed. Then during a basketball game, I got a concussion. A side effect afterwords was depression, which I suffered from for a while. I started to cut. I don't know how I got the idea honestly. I was going through my closet and found (a tool). I started off slowly, then picked it up until March, when I realized this was totally wrong. I went and told my coach who I really trust, and she got me a appt. with my regular doctor. From there I had to tell my parents, and I soon got a therapist.
Now a year and a bit after starting SI, and seven months after gettting a therapist, I know what's wrong in my life, but I can't say anything to my parents. So the problem continues.
I would like to congratulate everybody for sharing their story. It takes courage.
When I started high school things became overwhelming, and I became slightly depressed. Then during a basketball game, I got a concussion. A side effect afterwords was depression, which I suffered from for a while. I started to cut. I don't know how I got the idea honestly. I was going through my closet and found (a tool). I started off slowly, then picked it up until March, when I realized this was totally wrong. I went and told my coach who I really trust, and she got me a appt. with my regular doctor. From there I had to tell my parents, and I soon got a therapist.
Now a year and a bit after starting SI, and seven months after gettting a therapist, I know what's wrong in my life, but I can't say anything to my parents. So the problem continues.
I would like to congratulate everybody for sharing their story. It takes courage.
We felt like angels on the rooftops,
Looking down at you
Seeing ideas that we'd just read
Drunk on new truth
It seduced me, soft and silver tongued
With a way out after all the fun
-Chris Thile
Looking down at you
Seeing ideas that we'd just read
Drunk on new truth
It seduced me, soft and silver tongued
With a way out after all the fun
-Chris Thile
i have been self harming for about 12 years on and off. i started when i was 12. i had no idea about self injury then and i was sure i was the only one. my first cut was on my wrist. it was meant to be a suicide attempt but i just ended up scratching a line across my wrist. it was nice to see blood and made me feel better. i also had bulimia and was very depressed. at 15 io was admitted to an adolescent unit for just over a year which didnt really help but kept me safe. i stopped for a year when i met my fiance at 17 but got depressed again and went back into cutting and haven't tried to stop since because i feel it is something i need to do. i am waiting to go back into a hospital to be treated for depression which is my last hope as i am very suicidal and have been getting worse these pst few months
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this feels hard.
i don't remeber the exact incident but I know one day I came home and nobody was around. I don't think I had a conversation that was longer then, "how was school today" in several days so I felt like I had no one to talk to. I cried a bit and scratched myself. In the beginning I told myself I'd never be "like that" and I'd only scratch enough so that I felt better. that was about 3-4 years ago. when I was younger I'd bite myself and attempt to scratch myself until I bled. I never thought much of these things though.
I think a lot of times I've done it is when I felt unable to say what I felt. Sometimes I'm triggered by sexual things I've seen or jealousy of people I consider beautiful/intelligent. I haven't done it since october and that puts me at about four months. I guess this would label me lonely and frustrated. i have a hard enough time trusting people with harmless things like where I live and the like, so when I have to tell them something important like this, I don't.
I feel stupid looking at this in words. is this really me?
i don't remeber the exact incident but I know one day I came home and nobody was around. I don't think I had a conversation that was longer then, "how was school today" in several days so I felt like I had no one to talk to. I cried a bit and scratched myself. In the beginning I told myself I'd never be "like that" and I'd only scratch enough so that I felt better. that was about 3-4 years ago. when I was younger I'd bite myself and attempt to scratch myself until I bled. I never thought much of these things though.
I think a lot of times I've done it is when I felt unable to say what I felt. Sometimes I'm triggered by sexual things I've seen or jealousy of people I consider beautiful/intelligent. I haven't done it since october and that puts me at about four months. I guess this would label me lonely and frustrated. i have a hard enough time trusting people with harmless things like where I live and the like, so when I have to tell them something important like this, I don't.
I feel stupid looking at this in words. is this really me?
I can remember exactly when I started...
I was 12 and had just started the 7th grade. I was having a hard time at home in certain ways, and I was having a hard time at school because my friends basically had all turned into the biggest group of bitches ever. I didn't know what to do, I got super depressed... I picked up *a tool*and gave myself a cut on my arm for every person that hurt me that day... I thought I'd eventually hit my wrist and kill myself. Then I realized hurting myself was enough to feel better.
The next year I learned that a good friend of mine also cut... and she was carving words into herself. I began to do that, but stopped after a while because you can't really find an excuse for *a word* being carved into your leg. I would beat myself up on occasion or hit my head against things. When I entered highschool I began to burn myself and pretty much find every other way of hurting myself... *edited by jomomma*... whatever. Anything to make myself feel better. I would beat myself up so badly that one of my teachers thought I was being beaten at home...
When I got through half of my first year of university, I decided I had to stop. And I felt ready to stop... I wanted to quit for a year. That was my goal. I almost made it... the date to make it to was Dec. 27, and I made it to about the middle of November... and now I'm back to where I started. Feeling out of control again, craving to hurt myself all the time.
I was 12 and had just started the 7th grade. I was having a hard time at home in certain ways, and I was having a hard time at school because my friends basically had all turned into the biggest group of bitches ever. I didn't know what to do, I got super depressed... I picked up *a tool*and gave myself a cut on my arm for every person that hurt me that day... I thought I'd eventually hit my wrist and kill myself. Then I realized hurting myself was enough to feel better.
The next year I learned that a good friend of mine also cut... and she was carving words into herself. I began to do that, but stopped after a while because you can't really find an excuse for *a word* being carved into your leg. I would beat myself up on occasion or hit my head against things. When I entered highschool I began to burn myself and pretty much find every other way of hurting myself... *edited by jomomma*... whatever. Anything to make myself feel better. I would beat myself up so badly that one of my teachers thought I was being beaten at home...
When I got through half of my first year of university, I decided I had to stop. And I felt ready to stop... I wanted to quit for a year. That was my goal. I almost made it... the date to make it to was Dec. 27, and I made it to about the middle of November... and now I'm back to where I started. Feeling out of control again, craving to hurt myself all the time.
So this is the new year - and I don't feel any different...
- beautiful_facade
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Okay...
First time i was 11, scratched my hand with my fingernails b/c my best friend (i never have close friends - everybody's casual mate, but nobody close) moved to Australia...another one deserting me. Only was told that i did this several years later when i first went into therapy - my teacher at the time had told my parents what i had done, and they had never mentioned it to me.
Have been doing it 'regularly' since i was 13, although i couldn't tell you why. i guess to do with general self hatred and sense of isolation (still no friends). Progressed from pathetic little scratches to 'real' cuts. Would try anything - slamming wrist in doors, head banging, cutting, burning, ODs...
20 now and still doing it. Am at the stage now where anything i do has to be bad enough to require medical attention (have been at this stage since i was 15 - where to go now?) - surgeries (lost count) general hospital stays (also lost count), regular appointments etc.
Have to do more/worse to acheive very low levels of 'normality'...don't know where to go from here.
littleangelgirl
First time i was 11, scratched my hand with my fingernails b/c my best friend (i never have close friends - everybody's casual mate, but nobody close) moved to Australia...another one deserting me. Only was told that i did this several years later when i first went into therapy - my teacher at the time had told my parents what i had done, and they had never mentioned it to me.
Have been doing it 'regularly' since i was 13, although i couldn't tell you why. i guess to do with general self hatred and sense of isolation (still no friends). Progressed from pathetic little scratches to 'real' cuts. Would try anything - slamming wrist in doors, head banging, cutting, burning, ODs...
20 now and still doing it. Am at the stage now where anything i do has to be bad enough to require medical attention (have been at this stage since i was 15 - where to go now?) - surgeries (lost count) general hospital stays (also lost count), regular appointments etc.
Have to do more/worse to acheive very low levels of 'normality'...don't know where to go from here.
littleangelgirl
<center>The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes but in having new eyes.
Proust
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If I bore you, that is that. If I am clumsy, that may indicate partly the difficulty of my subject, and the seriousness with which I am trying to take what hold I can of it; more certainly, it will indicate my youth, my lack of mastery of my so-called art or craft, my lack perhaps of talent…
A piece of the body torn out by the roots might be more to the point.
James Agee.
Proust
<a href="http://www.punkymoods.com" title="Punkymoods (Unkymoods redux): Showcase your current mood"><img src="http://www.punkymoods.com/mood.php?userid=2390" alt="My Unkymood Punkymood (Unkymoods)" border="0"></a>
If I bore you, that is that. If I am clumsy, that may indicate partly the difficulty of my subject, and the seriousness with which I am trying to take what hold I can of it; more certainly, it will indicate my youth, my lack of mastery of my so-called art or craft, my lack perhaps of talent…
A piece of the body torn out by the roots might be more to the point.
James Agee.
- PurplePixie
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I dont remember why exactly I started self harming, I remember when i was very young from around 6or7.I used to make myself ill , hurt my wrists etc.
When I was older probably 13 or so i began cutting nothing serious just easily explainable scratches.
I stopped cutting for a couple of years when i started with bulimia, cutting started again at around the age of 16or 17.
My background to all this is simply, untill the age of 14 my dad abused me. At 15 just days before my16 birthday, also xmas, my dad walked out on us. At 17 I was raped b my boyfriend. My dad continues still to this da y threatening me not to tell anyone or he will "get" me.
THEN LAST SUMMER I was attacked outside my student flat and knifed.The guy still hasnt been put in prison !! Then last weekend i was "mugged" except i had nothing on me to steal so the man thumped me instead.
*cookie to anyone who read this*
When I was older probably 13 or so i began cutting nothing serious just easily explainable scratches.
I stopped cutting for a couple of years when i started with bulimia, cutting started again at around the age of 16or 17.
My background to all this is simply, untill the age of 14 my dad abused me. At 15 just days before my16 birthday, also xmas, my dad walked out on us. At 17 I was raped b my boyfriend. My dad continues still to this da y threatening me not to tell anyone or he will "get" me.
THEN LAST SUMMER I was attacked outside my student flat and knifed.The guy still hasnt been put in prison !! Then last weekend i was "mugged" except i had nothing on me to steal so the man thumped me instead.
*cookie to anyone who read this*
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- beautiful_facade
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Take *gentle* care Pixie.
i'm sorry about last weekend.
angelgirl
i'm sorry about last weekend.
angelgirl
<center>The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes but in having new eyes.
Proust
<a href="http://www.punkymoods.com" title="Punkymoods (Unkymoods redux): Showcase your current mood"><img src="http://www.punkymoods.com/mood.php?userid=2390" alt="My Unkymood Punkymood (Unkymoods)" border="0"></a>
If I bore you, that is that. If I am clumsy, that may indicate partly the difficulty of my subject, and the seriousness with which I am trying to take what hold I can of it; more certainly, it will indicate my youth, my lack of mastery of my so-called art or craft, my lack perhaps of talent…
A piece of the body torn out by the roots might be more to the point.
James Agee.
Proust
<a href="http://www.punkymoods.com" title="Punkymoods (Unkymoods redux): Showcase your current mood"><img src="http://www.punkymoods.com/mood.php?userid=2390" alt="My Unkymood Punkymood (Unkymoods)" border="0"></a>
If I bore you, that is that. If I am clumsy, that may indicate partly the difficulty of my subject, and the seriousness with which I am trying to take what hold I can of it; more certainly, it will indicate my youth, my lack of mastery of my so-called art or craft, my lack perhaps of talent…
A piece of the body torn out by the roots might be more to the point.
James Agee.
well ...
I have been siing on and off for about two years . Started just after my best friend died while I was abroad. I don't know how to explain it really, I just wanted to stop the pain inside, so took it outside ...
I have almost stopped now, even if I often have the urge to cut .
Ininteresting story, just my pathetic life .
I have been siing on and off for about two years . Started just after my best friend died while I was abroad. I don't know how to explain it really, I just wanted to stop the pain inside, so took it outside ...
I have almost stopped now, even if I often have the urge to cut .
Ininteresting story, just my pathetic life .
- sueslalues
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Well when I was really young, before I could remember, my dad beat me. When I got a little older I was always afraid of my dad, I didn't know why. And my siblings were no help, they tramutized me as a child. They locked me in dark closets and forgot about me and left me in there for hours. They would also forced me to watch scary movies.
Like the movie Candy Man. Well that's about this guy that would come out of a mirror and kill his victims with a hook if they said his name five times. Well while I was watching that, and right when he was aout to come out of the mirror and kill somebody, my siblings thought it would be funny to put a hook on my shoulder and drag me backwards. I now cry everytime I here "Candyman." I didn't know why I did for the longest time either.
I have five siblings too. So one could always be around to torture me. I also always get sick. So other kids in school make fun of me. I had very few friends for the longest time. I was always the loser that people started rumors about.
About a year and four months ago I watched that movie Thirteen with a friend Katie. Katie thought it was so cool how she cut and started to herself. She just wanted attention. She would show off her one little cut that she made with a rock. She was just a stuck-up little spoiled kid.
Well that made me think. "If that helps depression, then I should try it." That night I cut myself about [#edited] times. I still have the stain on my carpet that my parents think is nail polish. I got hooked. I cut every night for about two months. And the best things was nobody noticed. Until Katie found out. She told me to stop. She said, "If I can stop you can too."
I wanted to burst out laughing. She didn't understand. I thought that was my only way of surviving. But then I started to get a lot more friends. So I thought cutting was helping me. So I did it more. Then I got a bofriend and then I really thought it was helping. So I did it even more. One night I passed out from blood loss. But I was okay, and nobody found out.
Then one of my other friends found out. And he cut too. So he helped me. Then I happy for awhile so I stopped for awhle. So I stopped cutting for about three months. It was great. But then my boyfriend broke-up with me and told me he never liked me to begin with, that he was just using me. Guess what happened then.
But then my other friends made me happy. I forgot about cutting. Then I didn't go to the same school as them. I started up again. And that's where I am now. I have been diagnosed with manic depression and a form of bipolar. But they never knew I cut. Actually no one knows anymore. They think I stopped a long time ago. Well there's my very long boring story. Sorry for bothering you with it. But it helps to tell it.
Like the movie Candy Man. Well that's about this guy that would come out of a mirror and kill his victims with a hook if they said his name five times. Well while I was watching that, and right when he was aout to come out of the mirror and kill somebody, my siblings thought it would be funny to put a hook on my shoulder and drag me backwards. I now cry everytime I here "Candyman." I didn't know why I did for the longest time either.
I have five siblings too. So one could always be around to torture me. I also always get sick. So other kids in school make fun of me. I had very few friends for the longest time. I was always the loser that people started rumors about.
About a year and four months ago I watched that movie Thirteen with a friend Katie. Katie thought it was so cool how she cut and started to herself. She just wanted attention. She would show off her one little cut that she made with a rock. She was just a stuck-up little spoiled kid.
Well that made me think. "If that helps depression, then I should try it." That night I cut myself about [#edited] times. I still have the stain on my carpet that my parents think is nail polish. I got hooked. I cut every night for about two months. And the best things was nobody noticed. Until Katie found out. She told me to stop. She said, "If I can stop you can too."
I wanted to burst out laughing. She didn't understand. I thought that was my only way of surviving. But then I started to get a lot more friends. So I thought cutting was helping me. So I did it more. Then I got a bofriend and then I really thought it was helping. So I did it even more. One night I passed out from blood loss. But I was okay, and nobody found out.
Then one of my other friends found out. And he cut too. So he helped me. Then I happy for awhile so I stopped for awhle. So I stopped cutting for about three months. It was great. But then my boyfriend broke-up with me and told me he never liked me to begin with, that he was just using me. Guess what happened then.
But then my other friends made me happy. I forgot about cutting. Then I didn't go to the same school as them. I started up again. And that's where I am now. I have been diagnosed with manic depression and a form of bipolar. But they never knew I cut. Actually no one knows anymore. They think I stopped a long time ago. Well there's my very long boring story. Sorry for bothering you with it. But it helps to tell it.
"Is it really yelling...
... when no one hears your screams?"
Forever lost to walk amongst the dead.
SI Free: 1 Day(s)
... when no one hears your screams?"
Forever lost to walk amongst the dead.
SI Free: 1 Day(s)
- PurplePixie
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thank you I appreciate itlittleangelgirl wrote:Take *gentle* care Pixie.
i'm sorry about last weekend.
angelgirl
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- forevercryingtears03
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Well.. where to start.
Ive dealt with depression for as long as I can remember. Mainly with abuse and just.. the chaos at home.. never thinking of SI.. not even once. Then in 6th grade.. I started carving odd words into my arm with a key. Just about a month ago.. I realized that that was a form of SI. Then in 7th grade.. the abuse got worse, then the SI got worse. Im not completely saying that abuse is the ENTIRE reason.. just an aspect of it.
During 6th and 7th grade, the depression deepened. No one knew. Then when I got more into SI.. its what I revolved life on. My life saver... as I guess I would say. During this time, I had attempted suicide twice. Then.. the ED started. I realized that I never had liked myself.. and still dont.
I guess.. thats how it all started. SI has calmed.. ED going up and down.. depression still there, but it doesnt live with me anymore.. and thats good.
Ive dealt with depression for as long as I can remember. Mainly with abuse and just.. the chaos at home.. never thinking of SI.. not even once. Then in 6th grade.. I started carving odd words into my arm with a key. Just about a month ago.. I realized that that was a form of SI. Then in 7th grade.. the abuse got worse, then the SI got worse. Im not completely saying that abuse is the ENTIRE reason.. just an aspect of it.
During 6th and 7th grade, the depression deepened. No one knew. Then when I got more into SI.. its what I revolved life on. My life saver... as I guess I would say. During this time, I had attempted suicide twice. Then.. the ED started. I realized that I never had liked myself.. and still dont.
I guess.. thats how it all started. SI has calmed.. ED going up and down.. depression still there, but it doesnt live with me anymore.. and thats good.
Can you hear my cries?
Screaming. Deafening cries. Looking around, wondering who's making such a racket and why they aren't being silenced. Then I realize it's me screaming.
-Darren Shan
[6 months SI free]
4 slips.
Saved By Grace: July 26, 2006.
Screaming. Deafening cries. Looking around, wondering who's making such a racket and why they aren't being silenced. Then I realize it's me screaming.
-Darren Shan
[6 months SI free]
4 slips.
Saved By Grace: July 26, 2006.
- HSUgirl
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I really don't know why I started SIing. I first had tried to kill myself and then after that I started SIing like everyday when I turned 15 and well I had dealt with alot of stuff from my father who was a 24/7 alcoholic and very abusive more emotional and verbally than physically. Just seeing stuff day in and day out made me not want to be around and I would hurt myself trying to get rid of the pain inside. I felt like I couldn't cry or hurt that I had to be this happy person all the time. So I felt like I couldn't have any pain. I was basically my mom's help growing up so when my father was too drunk to walk to get in the house I would be the one to help him get in the house. It hurt to see this all the time. See all the fighting and dealing with your fathers threats of killing you if your mom ever left him. Having to deal with his freak moments when he would try to kill himself. And when he died that about killed me even though I hated him I still loved him. But also all of my life I was the kid that got made fun of and picked on for not wearing the right clothes or things so I kind of was mad for those reasons also. Plus my family was very chaotic and I had to worry about my brother who was messing around with drugs. And kept going to jail and worry about my mom also.
- flyingwithstars
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I was eleven
*trigger - may be graphic to some*
I was eleven when I started, and now I'm fourteen, I started after watching this show Degrassi, I'm sure most of you have seen it on the noggin channel. This girl in the show cut herself and I was so excited to see her do that to herself that I went up to my room and took a [tool] and turned my arm into one giant scab. I was so relieved and content. I can still remember the feeling of seeing the skin seperate and bleed. I love the feeling more than anything. I'm still having trouble with it, and I'm fighting every day to beat the blade. I write poetry and I try to focus on the good things in my life, but sometimes the self-hate takes over and I can't resist. As I got a little older I began to look for better things to cut myself with. First it was [edited to remove tools], and at this point I'm using [edited]. I wasn't sexual abused or harmed as a child, and I have a great family, but I'm over-weight and I have extreme low-self esteem. It seems that every second of every day I tell myself I'm not worth it...I try to tell myself that I am, but that part of me whispers so silently in my head that I'm not. I'm not okay right now, but like you guys said, one day I hope to be. I ponder on the thoughts of why I harm myself. Sometimes I have so many thoughts going on at once that I have to put them down on skin to straighten them out, like filing my own emotions, this one will be sad, this one angry, etc. Call me crazy, but I call it my own filing cabinet.
<i>edited to include trigger warnings and edit of tools - snow</i>
I was eleven when I started, and now I'm fourteen, I started after watching this show Degrassi, I'm sure most of you have seen it on the noggin channel. This girl in the show cut herself and I was so excited to see her do that to herself that I went up to my room and took a [tool] and turned my arm into one giant scab. I was so relieved and content. I can still remember the feeling of seeing the skin seperate and bleed. I love the feeling more than anything. I'm still having trouble with it, and I'm fighting every day to beat the blade. I write poetry and I try to focus on the good things in my life, but sometimes the self-hate takes over and I can't resist. As I got a little older I began to look for better things to cut myself with. First it was [edited to remove tools], and at this point I'm using [edited]. I wasn't sexual abused or harmed as a child, and I have a great family, but I'm over-weight and I have extreme low-self esteem. It seems that every second of every day I tell myself I'm not worth it...I try to tell myself that I am, but that part of me whispers so silently in my head that I'm not. I'm not okay right now, but like you guys said, one day I hope to be. I ponder on the thoughts of why I harm myself. Sometimes I have so many thoughts going on at once that I have to put them down on skin to straighten them out, like filing my own emotions, this one will be sad, this one angry, etc. Call me crazy, but I call it my own filing cabinet.
<i>edited to include trigger warnings and edit of tools - snow</i>
In my field of paper flowers, and candy-clouds of lulabies, I lie inside myself for hours...and watch my purple sky fly over me....
Ariel-
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- one of us
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My story so far
I started self harm in grade five. Since i found some things about my dad who i never met (still havent) he was a drunk and so on beat my mom and sister up. ANd we were poor had no food and stuff.
I had a best friend - she got sexually abused by her cousin and her dad hit her and i felt bad since i couldnt help her.
Then grade six. My mom found her first boyfriend. So we moved. My best friend got beat up bad by her father. My mom was always yelling at me so was my step dad. and a new school ect.
Then Grade seven - My best friend got beat up by her boyfriend really bad. and she was anerixic and belmiic and so on.. and i felt responsabl since i moved. Then my mom started hitting me since i was to fat for her. not pretty enough.
Then my sister got kciked out and beat up by her boyfriend. The end of grade seven was basiclly all fights.
Now grade eight. My boyfriend who i am very close with - his mom is dieing today. My best friend is getting better, slowly, my mom hits me NOT beat but hit and i do desrve it. Im horribly rude sometimes, overwieght, lazy and a horrible person. I try to eat less only to eat alot later. I want to go on a fast but cant.
I will be perfect. Im decideing to somehow lose wieght and hopfully stop cutting.
I had a best friend - she got sexually abused by her cousin and her dad hit her and i felt bad since i couldnt help her.
Then grade six. My mom found her first boyfriend. So we moved. My best friend got beat up bad by her father. My mom was always yelling at me so was my step dad. and a new school ect.
Then Grade seven - My best friend got beat up by her boyfriend really bad. and she was anerixic and belmiic and so on.. and i felt responsabl since i moved. Then my mom started hitting me since i was to fat for her. not pretty enough.
Then my sister got kciked out and beat up by her boyfriend. The end of grade seven was basiclly all fights.
Now grade eight. My boyfriend who i am very close with - his mom is dieing today. My best friend is getting better, slowly, my mom hits me NOT beat but hit and i do desrve it. Im horribly rude sometimes, overwieght, lazy and a horrible person. I try to eat less only to eat alot later. I want to go on a fast but cant.
I will be perfect. Im decideing to somehow lose wieght and hopfully stop cutting.
- *.*Black_Star*.*
- awe-inspiring
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my stories kinda complicated and has *SA* in it so dont read on if it going to upset you in any way:
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Ok when i was 8 i was sexually abused by an older guy , it was a horrible experience that i tried to deny for ages. Then a year or so later me and my friend Sarah (not real name obviously) got invited to stay at our other friend Lizzie's house. I didnt stay the night, i was feeling unwell and went home. A few years later Sarah told me that when she stayed at Lizzie's house, Lizzie's dad had come into the room in the night and abused her. I felt so awful, if i had stayed then it might have been me that it had happened to, i felt so guilty, i mean i didnt want to be abused again but id already had my life fucked up by it once, id rather be hurt again than have it mess up another persons life. I felt so guilty and as i was the first person Sarah had told, she wanted me to tell her parents, the cops. I hated it, and she didnt kno that it had happened to me and i didnt tell her. It bought it all back to me and thats when i started SIing. I did it continually for three years, and then managed to tell a few close friends about the abuse and they helped me to stop. But recently i have been under pressure and i broke up with my last boyfriend because i saw the guy who had abused me and i got upset, and when my boyfriend tried to kiss me i freaked out. We split up shortly afterwards. I hate the fact that it still affects me, but it does. My sympathy and love to everyone else who has suffered from SI and/or SA *hugs*
complicated story over.
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Ok when i was 8 i was sexually abused by an older guy , it was a horrible experience that i tried to deny for ages. Then a year or so later me and my friend Sarah (not real name obviously) got invited to stay at our other friend Lizzie's house. I didnt stay the night, i was feeling unwell and went home. A few years later Sarah told me that when she stayed at Lizzie's house, Lizzie's dad had come into the room in the night and abused her. I felt so awful, if i had stayed then it might have been me that it had happened to, i felt so guilty, i mean i didnt want to be abused again but id already had my life fucked up by it once, id rather be hurt again than have it mess up another persons life. I felt so guilty and as i was the first person Sarah had told, she wanted me to tell her parents, the cops. I hated it, and she didnt kno that it had happened to me and i didnt tell her. It bought it all back to me and thats when i started SIing. I did it continually for three years, and then managed to tell a few close friends about the abuse and they helped me to stop. But recently i have been under pressure and i broke up with my last boyfriend because i saw the guy who had abused me and i got upset, and when my boyfriend tried to kiss me i freaked out. We split up shortly afterwards. I hate the fact that it still affects me, but it does. My sympathy and love to everyone else who has suffered from SI and/or SA *hugs*
complicated story over.
- barnabygirl
- bus addict
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the short version..
Well its hard to know where to even begin.
I been SI'ing for as long as i can remember. Like carpetburns on purpose, scratching, hitting my head at things. I know i did it because i was so frustrated. I grew up alone with a boarderline mother, that was also an alcoholic. And all this was well hid behind our four walls. it was all about her, and she made me so mad somtimes i didnt know where to put all the feelings. She SA me, and my brother that lived with my father, and she brought home all kind of men, at all sorts of od times. I could never bring anyone home, because i never knew what home would be like that day.. i wanted to hurt my mother, but i couldnt, because i had to be lojal to her, or she threatend me to OD.. so i started to hurt my self instead. But this is all a long time ago. My mother is dead now,and thats an other sad story on its own. Now i am a mother my self. I decided when i had my daguther that i would stop SI because i didnt want to be sick like my mother. Then i had an MC and i did it once more, but i left it at that. My daughter is 4 years old now.. and i joined BUS, because i started to SI again, and i dont even know why... i just know that something is really wrong somewhere, and that my therapist isnt understanding me one bit. She says that im not sick like my mother, its just my GAD that makes me sceared of getting sick,, so everything i do is normal and positive and everything is so well,, and all i feel is so deep pain i want to SI all the time.. Everything is just really frustrating, and i need out of this and back to beeing the good reflective mother i used to be. I was doing so well going to college and getting great grades.. and now THIS ,, i dropped out i want to go back and continue the life that i suddenly just lost!!!
thanx for this thread, i didnt really find anywhere i could post this,,,
It wasnt a very pritty story i just want so much better for my daughter.. i want all this pain to end with me.. i so want be there all the time for her.. she is EVERYTHING to me
I been SI'ing for as long as i can remember. Like carpetburns on purpose, scratching, hitting my head at things. I know i did it because i was so frustrated. I grew up alone with a boarderline mother, that was also an alcoholic. And all this was well hid behind our four walls. it was all about her, and she made me so mad somtimes i didnt know where to put all the feelings. She SA me, and my brother that lived with my father, and she brought home all kind of men, at all sorts of od times. I could never bring anyone home, because i never knew what home would be like that day.. i wanted to hurt my mother, but i couldnt, because i had to be lojal to her, or she threatend me to OD.. so i started to hurt my self instead. But this is all a long time ago. My mother is dead now,and thats an other sad story on its own. Now i am a mother my self. I decided when i had my daguther that i would stop SI because i didnt want to be sick like my mother. Then i had an MC and i did it once more, but i left it at that. My daughter is 4 years old now.. and i joined BUS, because i started to SI again, and i dont even know why... i just know that something is really wrong somewhere, and that my therapist isnt understanding me one bit. She says that im not sick like my mother, its just my GAD that makes me sceared of getting sick,, so everything i do is normal and positive and everything is so well,, and all i feel is so deep pain i want to SI all the time.. Everything is just really frustrating, and i need out of this and back to beeing the good reflective mother i used to be. I was doing so well going to college and getting great grades.. and now THIS ,, i dropped out i want to go back and continue the life that i suddenly just lost!!!
thanx for this thread, i didnt really find anywhere i could post this,,,
It wasnt a very pritty story i just want so much better for my daughter.. i want all this pain to end with me.. i so want be there all the time for her.. she is EVERYTHING to me
- Neviah
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...this is gonna sound so stupid...
When I was 7 years old I used to hit myself, scratch myself - that kinda thing.. one day when I had failed a test (again) - i was always failing mini math tests and things and I took it real bad, I always felt like a failure because everyone else could do it and I was always the one to disapoint the teacher and my parents, so I started stabbing myself whenever I upset myself. By the age of 9 things had got kinda bad, things happened..don't really wanna say it but you know the kinda thing that can happen to a vunerable little girl alone in a park I'm sure - that's one thing I NEVER got over.. So I started scratching even more and things went on from there. I got to age 12 and my sister had been in hospital for alsorts, she has a disability called Klippel Tranauny Syndrome... it all got worse when she hit puberty and I was going through a point where everything that happened always had to be my fault so that I could put all my blame and hate into them, and punish them.. so I made that person me.
At age 15 I started cutting badly, things would happen like I'd have bad dreams, I'd go to a sleep over and of course.. nobody my age would want people to know they were afraid of the dark. Little things.. and I'd always manage to go somewhere where I was alone, or wait till I got home, and cut away all my sadness. I'm nearly 16 now, I went 6 months without SIing but..now it has it's hold on me all over again..
I feel a bit better for telling my story.. but it still all sounds really stupid..
When I was 7 years old I used to hit myself, scratch myself - that kinda thing.. one day when I had failed a test (again) - i was always failing mini math tests and things and I took it real bad, I always felt like a failure because everyone else could do it and I was always the one to disapoint the teacher and my parents, so I started stabbing myself whenever I upset myself. By the age of 9 things had got kinda bad, things happened..don't really wanna say it but you know the kinda thing that can happen to a vunerable little girl alone in a park I'm sure - that's one thing I NEVER got over.. So I started scratching even more and things went on from there. I got to age 12 and my sister had been in hospital for alsorts, she has a disability called Klippel Tranauny Syndrome... it all got worse when she hit puberty and I was going through a point where everything that happened always had to be my fault so that I could put all my blame and hate into them, and punish them.. so I made that person me.
At age 15 I started cutting badly, things would happen like I'd have bad dreams, I'd go to a sleep over and of course.. nobody my age would want people to know they were afraid of the dark. Little things.. and I'd always manage to go somewhere where I was alone, or wait till I got home, and cut away all my sadness. I'm nearly 16 now, I went 6 months without SIing but..now it has it's hold on me all over again..
I feel a bit better for telling my story.. but it still all sounds really stupid..
- rosie605
- creating your space
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Here is my story (SA trigs)... replies or PM welcome
Sorry if its long... I like to talk and telling my story helps me
My name is Stephanie and I am 22 years old. I am the oldest of 3 children. When I was born my mom and dad were both 18. They were married 5 months before I was born while they were in high school. My brother was born a year and a half after that and my sister was born a year and a half after him. We moved to Texas right after my brother was born because my dad was in the military. When I was 4 years old they got a divorce and we moved back to Indiana. They divorced because my mom cheated on my dad with my future step-dad, Clay.
After we moved back to Indiana, Clay followed us. Clay and my mom got married when I was 5. I was a witness to their courthouse wedding. No joke, my kindergarten signature is on their marriage certificate. We moved in with him and I can't remember anything happy after that. He was an alcoholic and never had a job so we were always on welfare and food stamps. We moved from apartment to apartment because we always were evicted. I went to 4 different elementary schools. He beat on my mom and my brother the most, sometimes me, but never my sister. I have very clear memories of times he beat up my mom, then we had to lie to my grandma and the rest of the family about it.
When I was in third grade we moved again. This time we moved in with my grandma because my mom was divorcing Clay. But I knew my mom could never leave him. We still kept in contact with him everyday and I was the one who had to call and lie to my grandma about where we were when we were with him. He used to come and knock on our window at night and my mom would leave. I never felt safe without her there.
In seventh grade we moved again. This time we moved back in with Clay. However they did not get married. The abuse didn't stop even though we were all much older. He still could never hold a job and Clay and my mom both would spend 4 nights a week at the bar. I was left to help my brother and sister who were in fourth and fifth grade with their homework and fix dinner. Some nights I would wake up with him in my bed. I always thought it was because he was drunk and he wandered froim his room. But then he showed up in my sometimes with no pants on. I would catch him watching my undress in the bathroom. He would yell at me to watch him masturbate.
All of this continued into high school. That's when I started to hurt myself. I would scratch my wrist til they would bleed. I never started cutting with a knife or anything. When I was a junior in high school my boyfriend noticed the scratches and asked me about them. I forced myself to stop for fear of him leaving me. Now he is my husband.
I went through counseling all through high school and at various points I confronted my mom about the abuse but she did nothing. I don't know if she didn't believe me or if she felt powerless.
Once I went to college, she finally left him and life was a little less stressful. About a year ago I was finishing student teaching, preparing to move away, planning my wedding, and looking for a job all at the same time. I turned to hurting myself once again. I distinctly remember the first time I cut last year, but I don't know what made me think of it. Even though Clay is out of my life, my sister and brother still keep in contacrt with him and that hurts a lot. When they talk about him it triggers me.
Currently, I teach second grade and I have a couple of students whom have lives a lot like mine when I was in second grade. That triggers a lot for me too. I also do not have a job at this same school next year - another added stress.
Sorry this is so long, but thanks for reading
Sorry if its long... I like to talk and telling my story helps me
My name is Stephanie and I am 22 years old. I am the oldest of 3 children. When I was born my mom and dad were both 18. They were married 5 months before I was born while they were in high school. My brother was born a year and a half after that and my sister was born a year and a half after him. We moved to Texas right after my brother was born because my dad was in the military. When I was 4 years old they got a divorce and we moved back to Indiana. They divorced because my mom cheated on my dad with my future step-dad, Clay.
After we moved back to Indiana, Clay followed us. Clay and my mom got married when I was 5. I was a witness to their courthouse wedding. No joke, my kindergarten signature is on their marriage certificate. We moved in with him and I can't remember anything happy after that. He was an alcoholic and never had a job so we were always on welfare and food stamps. We moved from apartment to apartment because we always were evicted. I went to 4 different elementary schools. He beat on my mom and my brother the most, sometimes me, but never my sister. I have very clear memories of times he beat up my mom, then we had to lie to my grandma and the rest of the family about it.
When I was in third grade we moved again. This time we moved in with my grandma because my mom was divorcing Clay. But I knew my mom could never leave him. We still kept in contact with him everyday and I was the one who had to call and lie to my grandma about where we were when we were with him. He used to come and knock on our window at night and my mom would leave. I never felt safe without her there.
In seventh grade we moved again. This time we moved back in with Clay. However they did not get married. The abuse didn't stop even though we were all much older. He still could never hold a job and Clay and my mom both would spend 4 nights a week at the bar. I was left to help my brother and sister who were in fourth and fifth grade with their homework and fix dinner. Some nights I would wake up with him in my bed. I always thought it was because he was drunk and he wandered froim his room. But then he showed up in my sometimes with no pants on. I would catch him watching my undress in the bathroom. He would yell at me to watch him masturbate.
All of this continued into high school. That's when I started to hurt myself. I would scratch my wrist til they would bleed. I never started cutting with a knife or anything. When I was a junior in high school my boyfriend noticed the scratches and asked me about them. I forced myself to stop for fear of him leaving me. Now he is my husband.
I went through counseling all through high school and at various points I confronted my mom about the abuse but she did nothing. I don't know if she didn't believe me or if she felt powerless.
Once I went to college, she finally left him and life was a little less stressful. About a year ago I was finishing student teaching, preparing to move away, planning my wedding, and looking for a job all at the same time. I turned to hurting myself once again. I distinctly remember the first time I cut last year, but I don't know what made me think of it. Even though Clay is out of my life, my sister and brother still keep in contacrt with him and that hurts a lot. When they talk about him it triggers me.
Currently, I teach second grade and I have a couple of students whom have lives a lot like mine when I was in second grade. That triggers a lot for me too. I also do not have a job at this same school next year - another added stress.
Sorry this is so long, but thanks for reading
But the struggles make you stronger
And the changes make you wise
And happiness has its own way of takin it's sweet time
No, life aint always beautiful
Tears will fall sometimes
Life aint always beautiful
But it's a beautiful ride
"Teaching is the profession that makes all other professions possible."
http://lessonsoflife23.blogspot.com/
And the changes make you wise
And happiness has its own way of takin it's sweet time
No, life aint always beautiful
Tears will fall sometimes
Life aint always beautiful
But it's a beautiful ride
"Teaching is the profession that makes all other professions possible."
http://lessonsoflife23.blogspot.com/
- ioa
- creating your space
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I had really bad anger issues as a child. If I banged my elbow against a doorframe accidentally, I would throw myself against it and hit it and bang myself against it a lot. It may sound silly, but I would yell out things like "Stupid chair! Stupid chair!" or whatever it was that had hurt me as I launched my assault on inanimate objects. I think that's where it started. Almost like equal and opposite actions (except usually, I exerted a lot more on the object) - if something hurt me, even inadvertantly, I would beat it, and in the process, beat myself up.
It took me a long time to get over that. I still don't think I'm over those anger issues all the way. Don't know why I was such an angry child though...
I did all those small childhood things like picking scabs (my mom used to yell at me all the time about that, she is a nurse) and whatnot.
When I was 12, my dad left.
It was around that time that I started to SI - with anything I could get my hands on, really. Pins, needles, a pocket-knife - I used them all. When I was 16 or 17 I got my hands on some razors and never went back. I also started burning around that time too, usually with matches.
I can go long periods without SI - I used to do it a lot when I was younger, but not as much now. I think it's mainly because I don't want people to find out that I try to control myself - not really for my own benefit, but for others. It's been at least a few weeks since I last SIed, I think.
I don't really keep track of the days. I still think about SI every day that I'm not doing it - and even on those days when I am. It's part of my daily life now and I don't know how to get rid of it or if I ever will.
It took me a long time to get over that. I still don't think I'm over those anger issues all the way. Don't know why I was such an angry child though...
I did all those small childhood things like picking scabs (my mom used to yell at me all the time about that, she is a nurse) and whatnot.
When I was 12, my dad left.
It was around that time that I started to SI - with anything I could get my hands on, really. Pins, needles, a pocket-knife - I used them all. When I was 16 or 17 I got my hands on some razors and never went back. I also started burning around that time too, usually with matches.
I can go long periods without SI - I used to do it a lot when I was younger, but not as much now. I think it's mainly because I don't want people to find out that I try to control myself - not really for my own benefit, but for others. It's been at least a few weeks since I last SIed, I think.
I don't really keep track of the days. I still think about SI every day that I'm not doing it - and even on those days when I am. It's part of my daily life now and I don't know how to get rid of it or if I ever will.
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