Tags
addicted, bandage, clean, clinic, cut, dangerous, emergency department, habit, hospital, scars, self harm, self injury, shame, stitches, wounds
Talking about self harm makes me very emotional, but in this blog I want to post about self harm. I want to tell my story so I can leave it behind me.
I was thirteen when I cut myself for the first time. They were only a few little scratches on my arms. But it was not just that one time, I cut myself increasingly. It soon became a habit, it became a daily thing. I think I was fourteen when I was addicted to self harm. I felt ashamed of it, so I tried to hide the scratches.
On my fifteenth the scars became seriously. What I have done was dangerous, my cuts were deep and wide. Every day I cut myself on my legs. While changing clothes at the gym at school, my friends saw the wounds, they were in shock. I felt guilty, I did not want them to worry.
January 6th I had to go to a clinic for two months. In the clinic I was cutting myself, and the second night I went to a nurse because I needed bandage. My pajama pants were covered in blood. The nurse wanted to see my cuts, so I showed them. I felt horrible and I was ashamed. ‘I am sorry, but I have to call a doctor, you are losing a lot of blood, and your cuts are very deep. I was aware that my cuts were bad, but I did not know that my cuts were this bad. The docter came in to see my cuts. ‘You have to go to the hospital, you need stitches.’ I was shocked. I wanted to go back to my bed, it was midnight, but I couldn’t. Together with another nurse I walked to the hospital through an underground tunnel between the clinic and the hospital.
I had to go to the emergency department. Two surgeons walked to me. It took two hours to fix my wounds, because both legs were covered in cuts. Around three o’clock in the night, I was finally allowed to go back to the clinic. I felt horrible. Next week, I had to go to the emergency department for a second time, my legs were covered in cuts, again.
After the second time the psychiatrist sent me on a time-out. I had to go home for two days so I could think about what I had done to myself. I had cried the rest of the day. I realized that I really had to stop harming myself now, it was dangerous. After my time-out I had cut one more time. February 12th 2014 was the last time I cut myself.
Nowadays, I am stronger. When I feel the urge to cut myself, I can ignore the urge. I have many scars, the scars on my legs are huge. I hope they will fade, but I am sure they will never disappear. I have also a few scars on my arms. Fortunately, the scars on my arms are not as bad as the scars on my legs.
I hope February 12th will be the last time I have cut myself forever.
Dysthymia Survivor 