Self Harm: Did Anyone Find Out and How Did They Take It?

I have self harmed ever since I was little, but I didn't start seriously cutting until last fall. At that point I had about 20 semi-deep open cuts on my forearm at any given time. I told my friends because the majority of them were self harmers themselves and I tell my friends everything, but I hid it from my family because I knew it would upset them (obviously) and I didn't want to stop. They'd known about my previous self harm/suicidal tendencies, though.

Eventually my mom saw them on Christmas when I was doing her makeup and my sleeve fell, and my dad was sitting right there so they both saw at the same time. She started crying and freaked out, but they didn't really do anything to get me to stop. I still cut from time to time but its not a ritual anymore. It was more embarrassing than anything else. Cutting is pointless. It's a release at the time but its not worth it.

I've been clean from cutting for about 5/6 weeks now after cutting for 4 years on and off. The only person who knew about it at the time was my teacher at school and he promised not to tell anyone and he helped me cope with everything that was going on. I managed to stay clean for about 8 months after that before snapping and since then I've been clean again. Only my best friend knows about my self harm and for 4 years I've managed to keep it a secret from my parents. I'd never tell them I self harmed because when they found out I was suicidal my father said, "you shouldn't be suicidal, everything at home is perfect for you. Me and your mum haven't split up unlike your aunt and uncle has" and blah blah blah. My mum has also said self harm is attention seeking and stupid so why would I ever tell them? I told a band member about me being suicidal and self harming and after a gig he stayed with me for half an hour, giving me a pep talk, hugging me, making sure I was okay. He even said my parents sound like dickheads and that he's gone through similar things to me.

I just don't think I'd ever tell my parents about my self harm, suicide attempts, bullying and whatnot. They wouldn't believe me and they give me a lot of shit anyway so it would be pointless. If they found out by being told from someone else or overhearing me talking about it then...I wouldn't care because they've been one of the sources for me doing it and they'd only have a go at me further.

I guess you could say I used to cut when I was a teen but back then (god I'm old) it wasn't really a well known thing like it is now.
Cutting seems to have become a popular coping mechanism with today's youth.

Anyway, I have a nice list of mental illnesses:
Bi-polar
Bulimia- purging type
Anorexia- restricting type
PTSD
and last but not least:
Anxiety.

So it's not really surprising I fell into self-destructive patterns..
The first time, I was 13. I just had all of this angst and depression and emotions inside me that I couldn't for the life of me get out

(and that's the root of my problems, I have trouble expressing what I'm feeling vocally. Causes me to feel like I'm filled up to the throat with all of these horrible things and the only way to get them out is to purge.)

So, I had read an article in a magazine (ohgeeze) about a girl who used to cut herself as a way to numb the pain...

I broke a disposable razor and took the blade out and made a tiny cut on the inside of my arm and in that instant-- it was as if just seeing the blood took away all the pent up stress. It became a slight addiction. My arms used to constantly be covered in cuts. My parents knew. My mother told me I was selfish. She said she was embarrassed to be seen out with me..
I eventually stopped and now I am in my 20's and I still have scars. I'm not judging but that thing all the adults do when they say, "you're gonna be upset about the scars when you get older" is true. I used to think no way. Scars are proof I survived..

But as it would turn out scars are just a huge advertising sign for people to constantly ask you, "Do you cut yourself?" Not cool when you're an adult. ha.

Good luck to you all. :)

I used to cut myself pretty bad and I"m so ashamed of it myself because of how my body looks now and I'm scared of one day my own child noticing and asking me where the cut's came from.

I first started cutting when I was 14 years old. At that point in time I had just started High School and had a hard time making loyal friends that I felt could be their for me whenever I needed them because I had so many problems at home with my own family. I felt as if my life was pointless and meaningless and I was going to be nothing important to anyone ever.

Eventually at 15 I ended up telling my parents myself about my cutting because I wanted help. I wanted to be happy with myself. I wanted so badly for things to get better. My parents where devastated. They tried their best to keep me from cutting myself though and eliminated privacy from my life. I didn't have a door in my room, I didn't have a lock in my bathroom, and I was never left by myself for more than 2 minutes. They didn't realize that I was just getting worse... I went into a Psychiatric ward a couple times going in and out spending three days to a whole week in the hospital ward trying to get help, trying to find purpose.

I kept cutting till I was 16 years old trying to fill the hole in my heart with a razor blade. I at that point had scars and fresh cuts on my arms, thighs, legs, shoulders, and stomach. It was disgusting and I put my body through so much pain. Then shockingly my life changed around real quick after I tried to O.D. on my anti- depressants pills. A month after I tried to O.D. I meet this guy who I think is my gift from God. He helped me through so much. This guy has been through hell and back with me and has shown me how to be happy. Of course though a guy can't fix everything! But through therapy and really working with myself I've learned a few tricks that also led me to the place I am at today.

Now I am 17 years old and I have this wonderful Guy who is now my Fiance and I'm expecting to have a baby in just three months now ^-^ I feel so blessed. Every time I feel our baby kick away in my tummy I just glow and get so excited! I have a good relationship with my family now that's better than ever! I did have to stop taking my antidepressants for my baby's sake and holy cow I'm doing great off my meds :D High school wasn't a success for me though. I withdrawn from high school and now am training to take my G.E.D. test. Hopefully after that I can go into a tech school like I'm planing to and get a nursing degree and I really hope I can work in a Psychiatric Ward and help kids as much as I can. My big goal is to be a Therapist and help kids/teens and be here for them and show them steps into being happy. It's a long process and I've been through it and learn some of my own tricks and I just really want to take what I know and help others.

Everything happens for a reason and I believe that with everything I've been through the outcome of it all is very beautiful and I think is my ticket to help others c:

I only cut myself once, but I would usually scratch myself on my thighs or my forearms. Some dark marks are still visible and people tend not to notice them anymore. I've stopped doing it for while now mostly because I've learned to control my anger.

My friend found out the one time I cut myself and told my mom, and my mom gave me a long, but not very comforting, lecture, which made me never cut myself, and then resort to scratching (I didn't like the feeling of cutting anyway). And then my mom saw my scratch marks and told me to stop... again. But didn't really say anything else. Then, another friend of mine saw the scratch scars during cross country practice and she said she'd self-harmed before as well and we just sort of looked at each other and then got ready for our 5K, haha :3

But I don't think I've self-harmed in a year, so I'm quite happy.

I started cutting when I was thirteen because I had so much pent-up anger, shame, and depression and some of my friends said it made them feel better. One of my best friends caught me cutting in the school bathroom that year, and last spring my dad caught me cutting and using Benadryl to get high. My friend understood but begged me to stop. My dad has only been concerned so he can save himself from going to jail for child neglect

I am currently a cutter I cut my thighs this morning, my mom knows I cut but she does not know how often I do I don't think I am going to ever stop cutting it is not a trend its more of an addiction once the pain wears off you gotta do it again

I started self harming about last year, after I got out of Harbor Oaks (mental hospital) and the first time my mom found out she screamed her head off. Then I started using actual blades, and when mom saw, she screamed that I should get down and beg for forgiveness. She was just trying to scare me. The last time which was about four weeks ago, she cried then yelled then cried and then she gave me a lecture. Then she cried again. She thought it was her fault for not bringing a man in my life, but I asured her that it wasn't her fault but I think she still thinks that.

a lot of people know i used to cut, but only one person actually took a stand to get me to stop. before my boyfriend and i started dating, i attempted to take my life. needless to say, it didn't work out. after he found out what happened, he wasn't too happy. the first thing he said to me after the fact was "if it wasn't for me, you'd be dead", but after actually talking about it with him, he was a little more understanding.

i haven't cut since nov. 13th of 2013.

when my parents first found out, they freaked, of course. but things are better now. we've learned to give each other space when we need it.

I haven't cute since...a few months ago. Every time I end up doing it, I feel terrible, but I've long since given up doing that to myself.

I didn't realize how 'popular' self harming really is until I saw my friends cuts. After that, another friend told me and then another and then I started noticing how many people wore long sleeves and lot's of bracelets. Honestly, I don't think I would have started if I didn't know how many people did it. I had fallen into depression last year and was even bulimic for a while. Then, cutting wasn't really an option. I don't know, I guess I just never thought of it. I think I might have scratched myself a bit over summer, but never anything serious.

But on one particular weekend, everything had turned to shit. I hadn't made it to the basketball team, my friend turned out she wasn't really my friend and I realized how absolutely lonely I really was. The first cut was on my stomach because I wanted a place that no one would see and if I scattered them around, people wouldn't notice. So I cut my stomach, elbow, thighs and wrist. The wrist was the easiest place to cut so I just did it there until my entire wrist looked like someone put it in a blender.

This may sound 'attention seeking' but I wanted people to see them. Like, I still wore makeup on them and long sleeved shirts but I still wanted someone to look at them and tell them they were there. One day, at a sleepover, I was reaching over to adjust the heat on a stove and my friend screamed "WHAT DID YOU DO?" She didn't lecture me, she just called me an idiot and that I had to tell her everything later. We never ended up talking about why but somehow, that gave me enough strength to stop. I don't know how being called an idiot helped but it did.

I know that right now you must be thinking that I only did it for attention but I didn't. It relieved me of my emotional pain and I just NEEDED to cut. But knowing someone cared was enough to stop.

A few weeks later, in gym class, I saw my friends cuts on her arms and remembered how much better it felt after someone saw mine so I pointed to them and told her she didn't deserve to do that to herself. At first she looked panicked so I just smiled and showed her my fading scars. She told me it was a relapse but you could just see in her eyes that me knowing was a weight lifted off her shoulders. Like me, she just needed to know that someone cared. We never really talked about it after, but I know I helped.

I've since relapsed into cutting but now I only do it on my thighs. I'm a fast healer so once my old cuts heal, I make new ones. It's a twisted routine but I've been getting better. I think that the next time I might call a self help line, just to get some anonymous comfort.

There's a lot more to that story and a lot more that's made me depressed. If anyone needs someone to talk to, message me. Trust me when I saw that talking helps.

I've had problems with self-harm for a while, and it isn't planned, it's more of an impulsive reaction that happens when I'm feeling out of control and chaotic. It usually manifests in the form of me hitting myself, sometimes with fists, thrashing and flailing, sometimes with objects like the back of a brush.

The most recent episode was tonight, but the worst was two weeks ago. I beat the shit out of myself with a brush that I had already broken from the hitting, so badly that I still have nebula-sized bruises on my legs. I can't explain how sad it makes me. I look at my body injured because of my own actions and it makes me so sad. I look at the brush and how I destroyed it and it just... makes me feel so horrible. And then I feel like I'm the lowest that I can be, and nothing matters, and I should just keep doing it.

It is almost like a stress-reliever, in a way. I know that it especially happens when a plan keeps changing, or gets cancelled, or somebody says something that makes me feel like things are hopeless. It feels like something that grounds me and that I have control over, and that gives me this illusion that it helps me. I just get feeling so helpless and it's almost like eating a giant tub of ice cream or buying a bunch of clothing. It comforts me in some perverse way.

During the period when I did do it a lot, I got caught a few times. I got a few different responses. Some responses were good, some responses were bad.

My supposed best friend at the time saw me harming myself in various ways more than once. She called me an attention seeker and told me to cut it out.

One particular time I burnt the skin off my arm through a friction burn I caused with an eraser, and I had a huge bandage on my arm. Someone reported it to a school official and they pulled me aside, asked me if I wanted to talk and I said no. They dropped it after sending me to the school counselor once.

I haven't self-harmed in that sort of way in years. I promised my best friend that I never would again.

I have some experience cutting. It started when I was 12, if I'm correct. My uncle died three days after I turned 12, so that was a massive blow. My teachers noticed me being more sad, and I just felt really left out of everything. Then my parents split up. It was quite hard, and the only way I could cope with it was cutting.

I didn't start cutting until 3 months later, but I was trying to hurt myself in strange ways. I wouldn't listen, I got into fights which I always lost...

When the cutting started, it was deep as hell on earth. It was on my leg, a simple swoosh of a razor that came out of my broken pencil sharpener and bam, cue the panic, I bled hard. I told my mother some kind of excuse, and I had to get stitches. My mother was horrified, same with my dad when I showed them my arms last Christmas Eve.

Since them, my arms, legs, stomach, feet, and even my boobs are riddled with scars. However, I'm taking a good turn.

My sister had a baby. She was a blessing. Her name was Eve, she was a bundle of joy. I was staying alive for Eve. Now, Eve is gonna be a big sister. My sister is pregnant again, with a boy.

I've dedicated my life to making people feel better about themselves. When I'm older, I want to make a band or maybe a gaming group with people who have had a set back in life. May it be cutting, some mental problems, anxiety, I want to show the world that things do get better.

My parents encourage me to write poems a both self harm, social anxiety, and some other things. I feel more comfortable making friends on the internet than in real life... But I find that fine. It shows that the person you've been talking to doesn't care about how you look, how many scars you have.. They care about personality. I bet you can make them smile.

(Holy snazzzarooo face paint, that was long. :o: )

I'm actually quite lucky, my only experience with someone finding out wasn't traumatic at all. It was in PE and I was changing... I'm usually pretty sneaky about making sure the gym in empty when I change, but there was one other girl in there, and I was almost late so I was like "screw it" and just changed. I would only cut my thighs, but they were be pretty hard to miss since some of them were... well, fresh. I didn't think she even saw/cared, but right before I left she said "hey... I saw your legs" and I thought she was going to ask some stupid question or something, but instead she told me she cut too, and she's actually a really cool person and I'm glad I met her.