Self Harm

       Have you ever felt so overwhelmed whether it be with anger, sadness, loneliness that you felt like you were going to explode? What did you do...yell, go for a walk, hit a punching bag or pillow, maybe you even cried or talked it out with someone? The point is you found a way to get it out of you. For some people those options seem impossible, they are going to explode and they need a release so they turn on themselves...they cut, burn, pull their hair, anything to make breathing easier. It is a taboo subject that no one likes to talk about, it is easier to say only emo kids or attention seekers self harm not the captain of the drumline with music scholarships waiting for her, not the star football player, and not the homecoming queen who has it all together. The fact is I've known one of each of my examples who dealt with self harm and it took a long time before anyone found out about it. In fact, I am the girl from the first example. 
     I started cutting my junior year in high school, honestly I can't even remember what made me do it the first time. Things were just so hard at home and I was having a hard time handling home life while keeping up the smiles at school. I felt like I was going to explode, I couldn't yell or talk to anyone about what was going on. I had to be perfect and no one could know what was happening at home. When I cut it was a release, I could see it pour out of me, all the hurt was subsiding and I could just be numb and keep up the smiles. The only problem was the hurt always came back and I had to do it again. 
     Not long after that first cut my diet had turned to full on anorexia, I became obsessed with my weight and the more people got onto me for not eating and telling me how my wt was falling the more I was hooked. My life became me protecting my secrets and making sure everyone thought I was the same happy person I always was. No one figured anything out for a long time, they were my secrets until the beginning of my senior year when my friends decided it was time to step in. I told them I was fine and they didn't buy it because they went to a trusted teacher and told him what was going on. Eventually it got bad enough that I had to go live with my dad and all my secrets were out there for everyone. I was seventeen when the doctor officially diagnosed me with anorexia. This is the part where I wish I could say that I worked through my issues and started eating again and didn't cut myself and life went on great...that is not the case.
     The fact is instead of going to college with my music scholarship I was shipped off to a residential treatment center for eating disorders. I spent my birthday, Christmas, and New Year's there doing nothing but trying to get out. All they wanted to do was feed me and make me talk about things that I didn't want to talk about. I eventually got out because my insurance stopped coverage and went to college. I held it together for a month before I was back to my old self. I would find myself running for hours and then, when I still couldn't find that fake smile everyone wanted I would take my razor to the shower with me. I was hospitalized in mid December once again for my anorexia requiring tube feeding. The only positive thing was meeting the doctor that stuck with me through some of the toughest moments of my life and who often saved me from myself at times. 
     It went on for years after that, constantly hospitalized because I wasn't getting enough nutrition. The cuts got deeper as I fell deeper into my addictions and cutting is an awful addiction. I lied to doctors about the cuts, it got to the point that I carried razors with me everywhere I went in case I couldn't handle a situation. I was a shell of a person who didn't care if they lived or died. I woke up in the ICU after an overdose and I just kept finding myself in the same situation all the time. I was destroying myself, I wasn't doing it because I wanted attention or because I was trying to fit in with some emo culture. 
      I was constantly judged and criticized by everyone in my life, they couldn't understand why I was doing what I was doing. I wasn't praying enough, trying hard enough...I wasn't enough. The more they talked the more I cut, trying to find my fake smile again, but at this point all the cutting and restricting in the world wasn't helping me find anything except a coffin. I know most people can't understand this but cutting is an addiction that has been compared with heroin. After years of running to a razor every time you have a feeling you can't handle you develop a physical reaction when you are triggered. It has been almost four years since my last cut and when I'm really upset my arms still tingle the way they did years ago. It took me a long time to learn how to cope with feelings without running to a razor or turning to my eating disorder which is another form of self harm. 
     Part of the reason I shared this is because I hear so often when someone is speaking of a cutter they say how stupid they are or how all they want is attention when in most cases the person is just trying to hang on. Cutting is not a suicide attempt, most of the time it is a desperate way to avoid suicidal ideations. The last thing needed is judgment from the people around. I would also advise against policing the person because it makes things way worse. If you know someone is cutting or doing somthing that could hurt them let them know that you are there for them and if you fear for their safety you should contact a parent or teacher if the person is underage and if not underage you call 911. If your friend is mad at you for a minute it is worth it if they are alive, they will get over it. I am alive today because of people intervening.
     And, to those who struggle with self harm I know what you are going through, I've been there. I've been scared to let go, I didn't think I could survive without cutting. The urge may never go away, mine hasn't, but you learn how to ride it out without picking up a razor. You learn that it will pass, and the best advice I can give you is find something to help you through the hard urges. I know people who take cold showers, stick their heads in a bowl of ice water because it shocks the system almost like cutting does. Some people find a friend or loved one they can confide in and they call them up when things are tough. I write in my journal, every awful thought that is racing through my head, I've taken markers and marked up my arms, and sometimes I even call someone. The point is do whatever you have to do to stay away from your harm objects. I know that sometimes it feels like you can't make it, but I promise you that you can. It takes time and sometimes you might fall, but it is about getting up and starting again. My mom bought me a picture that said "Each day is a new beginning" and I really do believe that. What is done is done just move on. I am not ashamed of my scars, I don't hide them behind long sleeves or lies, I am proud of what I have overcome and I won't let anyone shame me for it. You are worth more than this, you deserve better, and I know that voice in your head is telling you different but it is a damn liar. You can get better and I promise you are absolutely not alone.