Cutting: What Made You Do It the First Time? What'd You Use?

@ xxFlyingFreexx
Seeking help seems scary but it's really helping me. The last time I cut was three months ago.
The first time I cut was when I was 13. Nothing made sense, I didn't like my new found popularity, I was quite happy being quiet and shy and listening to my rock music. I was bullied in primary school so I had no confidence in secondary. I just really wasn't comfortable with myself and wanted to fit in. It was just scratches on both my wrists, my mom found out and I stopped.
When I was 16 I got this kind of deep satisfaction out of self destruction. My best friend betrayed me, I developed an eating disorder even though I was a perfectly average weight. I started cutting much deeper and I was a regular for butterfly stitches at my local hospital. I still have scars all over my arms and thighs. I backed out of perfectly good relationships out of hatred for myself and started excessively smoking pot and drinking even though I was bulimic and anorexic.
I'm nearly 18 now and I've got help for it all. I've settled down with friends who mean a lot to me and going to counselling really helps. I struggle with depression from a day to day basis but I'm much more comfortable with who I am now and really I just want everyone to know they are NOT alone.
xoxo

I was eleven. And I used a necklace shaped like a diamond. Dug it into my leg on Christmas eve. Worst mistake I've ever made, I'm pretty sure. Recently I went away to a home for suicidal teens. It helped a lot. Road to recovery, here I come.

First started when I was 12 because of my parents neglect of me when I wasn't the perfect A grade, straight and christian little girl they wanted. I stole knives from the art rooms and later moved onto the blades in sharpeners. Only stopped when I was 17 and my home life became more stable.

Recently started again about a month ago mostly due to neglect of friends and stress. Same choice of knife. I don't plan to stop and I know its only getting worse and more addictive than ever.

If cutting is defined as an act of self hatred, or something done intentionally, I've been doing it since I was four, or younger. It started with pins and needles and pointy little sharp things I'd stick in my skin, and then it turned to using a hammer some times and a knife others. I've always had a fascination with knives because my father would collect them, and I was always jealous. He was always into Nazi memorabilia, and used to go around antique shops looking for any sort of dagger. He found a few, and gave me one, but my mother took it from me and I haven't seen it. They weren't sharp, because he was kind of stupid with that stuff and didn't know how to sharpen things. He threw a steak knife at me when I was six and I still don't know why. I used to chase my sister with knives and I tried to stab her friend once but she and my sister locked themselves in a cupboard. I used to do that a lot. I chased my sister around with a butcher's knife one time, around the outside of the house when she had friends over. It wasn't abnormal for me to have a knife. I feel better when I have a sharp knife with me. My mother won't buy me any sort of hunting knife or dagger even though I really want one because the last time she bought me a knife I cut my sister with it. I think this all stems from my father. He was kind of abusive. When he was young he stabbed his brother with a steak knife, so I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all.

It was this year sometime, and I also recently cut.
It was with a broken and bent paper clip.
I want help but I don't feel like I can tell anyone yet.
I don't actually know what made me do it, stress, anxiety, images of others self harm, people talking about 'emos' like they're worthless.
I just felt really down so I wanted to feel happy, or feel something, so I done it.
I'm determined not to cut again, but I know it's only a matter of time.

I first started when I was in eighth grade, 13 years old. I was constantly being sexually harassed and I couldn't deal with the stress anymore. I'd go to the nurse crying almost every day and I'd be sent home because I would work myself up to panic attacks. I have panic disorder and I'm taking antidepressants for depression and bipolar disorder. It was February 2010. I used a pair of sharp kitchen scissors and cut from my wrist down my forearm to where my arm bends. I haven't cut recently, but I've thought about it and I've wanted to attempt suicide every day since the last time I cut, but I don't want to disappoint my family. I'm a failure, I can't do anything right, and the worst thing: I can't write anymore.

I started in 7th grade. Usually it was only when my dad and I fought really bad. After that, I started getting more and more anxiety and my depression just built up and I've been doing it for about 5 years. At first, I would use the scissors that I had in my room but I moved to this tiny little scalpel thing that was in my bathroom cabinet. We have 4, so I took one and hid it in a box in my room by my bed.
When I was in 10th grade, I told my mom and my sister, and that didn't go over too well. I got yelled at on my front lawn. I went 180 days without and relapsed. I've been relapsing ever since, in smaller intervals...I can't seem to stop. It's the only thing that helps anymore. But no one will see them...they're on my thighs.
It's been 3 weeks...and I really want to do it again...its building inside and I just need to let it out. I'm skipped over, ignored and replaced...the blade is the only thing that hasn't left me yet.

My first cut was when I was 15. I had no real reason for it? I was never diagnosed with depression, but I had these very intense impulses that would leave me all bloody and sore. The cutting didn't stop till I was 21.. I think. And even now (i'm nearly 23) that desire still exists.

I cut myself because I felt I deserved it. I cut myself because I needed a reaction, a very basic one, of blood. And I would enjoy the attention I would give my body. (fucked up right?) I would look after myself, and I felt kind of pampered... (bit of a glamorized version)

The first time I cut, I was in eigth grade. I had depression since fifth grade and had a bad day that day so I came home, cried all the tears I kept bottled up then my parents or siblings said or did something to make me angry and I got so angry I broke the glass picture frame, then picked up the tiny piece of glass and just started slicing in a fit of rage. 14 cuts down my left arm. They were shallow and some of them have long since healed but I can still see a few. I don't cut as much as I used to though....

ignore. outdated and old.

I started in the 7th grade.. I'm wondering now if there's just something wrong with that year, because that seems popular.. I guess the self harm started before that, I always had long nails and if I were upset/ scared I would ball up my hands, until my nails cut into me. After a while I started wondering if the pain was what calmed me down, and I took apart a shaving razor. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was depressed, and that is what lead to it.

9th grade...bread knife...and bc I have an addictive personality things started spiraling pretty fast...I had "friends" who thought tht was cool...we all thought we could handle ourselves I guess...I had an actual friend tht talked to my mom...I was so angry at her for the longest time but what She did was right...I didn't quit then but it slowed me down a lot...I've recently decided to get a tattoo in the place where I used to cut...my mother asked me why I would do that...why i would remind myself everyday...but anyone who has done it can tell you...you remember every day...even after having quit 4 years ago I remember everything about it...I know that for many of you the situation is different...and this may fall on deaf ears...but cutting isn't something to try bc ur friends do...it isn't going to help you feel better...It's a drug...one that you don't run out of unless you od and its really easy to do...it took me a long time to realize that i wasn't helping myself at all...and It's still the first thing I think of when I'm upset...most people don't understand that it becomes an addiction...and fewer still truly understand how addictions work...I'm not trying to make any of You feel bad...I'm really not...just for the few tht are ready to stop and maybe try something else to help yourself I urge you to talk to someone anyone at all...and if It's secrecy you want and someone you don't know then I am more than happy to talk to you

Well... tenth grade september 20th 2012... my grandfather died... black family drama beyond the limits of a tyler pary movie... my parents are strict christians, I grew up in the church, became depressed, nobody believed that I was hurting and called me a drama queen... phonies tried to help me with my issue, I was bullied as a child and couldn't take anymore. I used a pin, the ones you use to sew clothes with, I'm too afraid to tell my parents because they are very high in faith and will probobly think that I have demons and evil spirits within me when I am just sad, confused, hormonal girl who needs comforting. I know they will probobly find this eventually but I think this is better right now... more people in my family are dying... and being an honor student its hard to keep a good profile with everybody so I just did it. with the sewing pin. it hurt a lot but I was too depressed for tears and I feel as if I'm slipping away from my faith. I havent done it in a while though... all of this drama has simmered down... but someone else is going to go, and its going to start all over again... and this time i don't know if cutting will save me. I don't know.... it feels like i need to escap... i need to get back down to earth. i think if i just feel pain... i'll know that i'm alive and that i still exist in this world I like to call a time bomb. I wasn't just sad when i did it, i was angry for not being strong enough, for not being able to handle all the pressure... being the youngest of a genious family takes a toll on you after tragedy and this is what its going to lead to...

The first time I cut, I was in the 8th grade. I used a sewing needle. As you said, it was just a scratch. As time went on, I would cut the razor blade out of a shaving razor and use that. I don't even want to say what my reason was, considering yours is way more serious. I've been blade free for what? A year? A year and a half? Something like that. Although, I find myself craving it lately.

It was my 15th birthday. After I came out to my family and some friends about being gay at my birthday party. My mom cryed and my dad got pissed. My sister wouldn't look at me and I lost some close friends all in the matter on one day.
After my dad sent me to my room I through a glass cup at my wall and it broke. So I picked up a big-ish pice and cut my wrist pretty beep. My sister found me I guess but all I know is I woke up in a hospital with shit on my wrist...I still have that pice of glass.

Nobody knows that I used to cut. I am the last person you'd expect to do it. 9th grade was the worst, just.. Too much. Too much school, pressure and.. Many people envied me. They said I was beautiful, good at school, from a great family..but the truth was different. My family fought a lot. I used to sit in a corner of my room and just try to block it away. I had a crush on someone I couldnt have and I felt too much pressure about being popular. I was also very unsure about my religion and I felt all alone and meaningless. Small. I decided to lose weight. It worked too well and became the purpose for my life. One time I remember gaining and I just grabbed a needle and scratched my arms all over. That's how it started. It got worse until I wanted to actually kill myself. My friends noticed my anorexia that had become pro ana. Then, one day I just couldnt take it. I skipped a week of school, slept and thought about it. It could be worse. And I forced myself to stop losing weight and to stop cutting. Trough difficulties I won and I dont cut or lose weight anymore. I am happy and here to show that you can make it, you can stop.. But also never judge people when you dont know them. Nobody knows about my cutting and anorexia but online I do my best to help others achieve their goal; a healthy and happy life(:

I've only done it once, and that was when I was 16. Depression runs in my family, and I inherited it. While I've kept it in check and haven't had to take meds since high school, it was at its worst when I was in 10th grade.

I used an X acto blade and cut on my left leg and right thigh. It did absolutely nothing to help, so I never did it again. I coped in other ways. (drawing people getting murdered, to be specific. I'm not sure why, but it really helped.)

I can't remember the first time I started. I thought about a lot when i was around sixteen. I think I started then. I use a tack when I cut and then pick at it until it bleeds since it's just easier for me. It's really hard to explain why I did it/do it though. I guess because of all the monsters in my head. D:

It's gotten somewhat better over time, though I did relapse not long ago. I do get those urges, but they aren't nearly as bad.

I was in 7th grade. I had no idea what depression was at the time, or that it was an illness, and would have never expected to have it. I would just go days feeling like utter shit and have no idea why. I hate to blame it on the media, but I recall seeing people dealing with their depression and emotions by cutting, erasing, and burning themselves so I started. I first cut myself with scissors and then continued by using the pins and safety pins from my jacket. The cutting was on and off until I got caught cutting at school by a fellow classmate who had decided to report it to my counselor. Thereafter, my friends (somewhat) forced me to try the butterfly project where they would draw butterflies wherever I cut and named them after family members/people that were dear to me; if I cut, then I would metaphorically be killing them. It definitely helped. I haven't cut in about a year and haven't had the urge since.

I find that keeping myself busy with hobbies and friends has definitely helped rid of the urge and create a harmless environment for me.