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New Stories
Ginny
I’ve been a cutter since I was 14, I am now 19 and have decided that I want to stop. I started cutting because my stepdad was abusive and my mom was never home. I used a safety pin one night to make scratches on my arms. I felt so much better and since then it’s gone from there.
Grace
I cut when my mother and I get into our yelling spats. I have this overwhelming urge to pick up something and to run it across my skin. To draw blood and control pain. I was molested by my brother. And my mother got him counceling. Not me. I was ignored everytime I asked. I wanted to talk to someone, but time and again I had a religous mantra thrown at me. Forgive him. Forget.
Featured Stories
Gabrielle
Cutting, for me, first started as an obsession about seeing blood and hurting myself. Any little thing would set me off and I could imagine slitting my wrists. I began to dig my nails into my skin and pinching myself so that there would be deep marks indented in them that I could see for days. I didn’t and still don’t think of this as SI, but I think it was the beginning. At first I wouldn’t let myself cross the line into cutting. I would see a knife and I could imagine myself drawing it over my skin, and I would imagine the blood that would come out. I knew that something was wrong with me so I told my parents that I was sometimes a little depressed, but I didn’t tell them that I wanted to hurt myself. They, of course, removed me from what they thought of as the thing that triggered me: School. But they didn’t take me to a psychologist even though they talked about it for a while.
Geekgirl
It’s hard to begin when I’m not even sure myself. All I know is where I am, and how I am both disgusted and surprised I got here.
I’m on anti-depressants, pills for my skin, pills for nervous exhaustion and disability. I’m on herbal tablets, cigarettes and not much else.
This website is about self-harm and suicide. One I do daily, the other I tried and sadly woke up from.
Ging
It takes a lot to admit it to myself. It’s easy enough to talk sometimes but it never sunk in what I could do to myself. It was just blood. I cut deeper than I meant to over the new year, I saw my veins and that scared me. It’s an unreal sensation, the release I get from SI mixed with fear, but also a want to cut deeper and end it all.
I couldn’t end it all, I thought that made me weak and gutless. It doesn’t, it makes me strong. Dying is the easy way out.
Greta
I’ve been SI’ing since I was seven years old. It started out with scratching till I bled, and then, my dad gave me his old boy scout pocket knife. I would look at it and be proud he gave it to me, since I am a girl. One day I cleaned it off and just started sawing away at my leg. It seemed like a natural impulse: Something that I couldn’t control. It went on, from dull, old pocket knives to scissors and eventually an X-ACTO knife. Later I discovered the use of duct tape to make the cut larger with less work. Everything goes downward. The cuts get deeper and the blood level rises.
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