Psyke.org

HmF

My Life Story

Copyright HmF

I have always had a really great family. I know that a lot of people have horrible familys that don’t love them or treat them badly or abuse them or something like that. My family has always been very kind and treated me with all the respect that I gave. I would like to thank my family for that. Thank you for being there for me.

It all started when I moved. I moved to a house, my first house about two years ago. I can’t really remember why I did it but I took a safety pin and scraped the name of the guy that I liked into my arm. I liked it. I then stole a butcher knife from my kitchen and started with that. Most of my SI has been done with that butcher knife. After about a year with that I bought razor blades. I decided that I needed help so I went to my adult friend. She has been my friend for a long time and she alwase will be. I told her what I was doing and she kept it a secret for a long, long time and then she decided that it would be better if my parents knew. I blamed her for a long, long time. I wouldn’t talk to her and I was mad at her for a long time but then I realised that she only did it to help me and it was the best thing that anyone has ever done for me. I can not stress enough how gratefull I am to her. My father told me that the only thing that I could do was just stop. So I did for a few mounths. Then I moved to my legs. I cut up my legs and always wore pants. That worked for me for a little while. Then I was abused. Raped and molested. Both within a month of each other. That didn’t help my cutting. Then I decided that I was bi. My girlfriend was a really great help. She helped me through alot and for that I thank her. However I met her parents and they didn’t like me so she was banned from me. She couldn’t talk to me and I had to find out that we weren’t together from my friend that is also her friend. I cut the worst that day. I cut eight times a day every day for mounths. Then my dad found my blades. He told me if I didn’t stop that I was going to go somewhere that would make me stop. I haven’t in a long time but sometimes I slip and dig my fingernails into my arms or something like that. That is my story. Thanks for listening, Psyke.

 

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