The first time I self-harmed I was 11. I can’t pinpoint anything overly wrong in my life at that time, before then I guess I was confused over the decision not to see my Dad any more and my Nan being sectioned due to her bi-polar. I wasn’t depressed, I just didn’t feel myself any more, I tried to get help but the doctors dismissed there being anything wrong with me because of my age. I suppose that’s when it started, I didn’t know what to do to make anything better.

The first experience left me so confused, I knew it wasn’t right and it hurt, but it somehow stopped everything else from hurting, I could focus again. It was bitter sweet, I felt ashamed and embarrassed but I also felt like it was improving my situation and it was my way of coping. It calmed me. For years it went unnoticed,  and it wasn’t constant, only when it felt like I needed it, but it was definitely becoming a habit. When I started college, things really took a turn for the worse, I was just functioning, I wasn’t really living. It was becoming an every day habit and I was seriously considering ending it all. For the first time I genuinely realised I needed help. It was so hard but I finally confided in my Aunt who took me to the doctors, I was so scared, but in all honesty, at that time they didn’t do anything for me, again just putting it down to ‘teenage mood swings’. Telling my Mum was the hardest thing I have ever had to do – I physically saw her heart break, from then on she watched every mood I made, although I had promised I would never do it again.

Unfortunately, my depression returned and I started self-harming again and worse than I ever had before, but I felt defeated, I didn’t want to admit to anyone I had gone back to doing it daily. Luckily, I met the most incredible guy, as much as I don’t think you should stop for anyone, just yourself, he gave me a reason to keep going. He supported me through so much, he’s been to countless doctors appointments with me to get me the help I needed and has been there for me at my worst times. Admittedly, I didn’t think anything could work, it took me a long time to give in and accept help. Eventually, after countless appointments over the years I met the best doctor, I broke down in her office, and she was wonderful; I instantly felt a huge weight lifted. She prescribed me anti depressants, I was sceptical at first but within a few weeks I really felt the difference.

Gradually I became myself again, I slept more, and I ate more and most importantly I was cutting myself less. Although anti depressants haven’t solved my reasons for self harming, they got me in a place where I could think rationally about them and begin to work on them in a positive way rather than destroying myself. I don’t think I necessarily have a ‘coping mechanism’ but I feel a lot more comfortable and talk now rather than hurting myself. I also got a tattoo where I used to cut myself the most, it may sound silly but it’s made me less tempted because I can’t ruin something so pretty.

So now I’m 21, I’ve battled with this for 10 years but I finally feel like I’m in a place where I’m not going back to it. In the past 2 years I have only hurt myself once, and that feeling is amazing. I still find it hard, and the urge isn’t totally gone but I can control it now. I can’t stress the positives enough, even little things like I can now go to the beach and not be paranoid about anyone seeing cut marks. I’m still with the guy who saved my life, I’ve got an amazing job now and I’m happy. I’m hopefully coming off my anti depressants after two years pretty soon too! It breaks my heart seeing people battle through this, so if you’re reading this, please just tell one person, you really don’t have to suffer, it can get better.