March
is Self-Injury Awareness month & this hits close to home. I was
never that open about this part of my life and I always looked down
or ignored the subject when someone brings it up. I never flaunt my
past addiction and try not to make my scars visible or the point of a
conversation. But as I get older and an aunt to teenagers now, I feel
that it is best to be open about it because I don't want them to
suffer the same way.
I
never had an open relationship with my strict parents and was not
comfortable talking to my friends about what's going on.
So
here it is, I self-harm from 2003 - 2013. Between 2003 - 2008 were
the worst because it went from 0-100 real quick. It became an outlet,
then a habit, and turned into a real addiction. After 2008, it became
an occasional outlet when stress became, too much.
***
This post is a little sensitive for me to write. No research was
involved and all are personal experiences. I am not condoning
self-harm and do not wish others to start. I just want to reach out
to those suffering and remind you that you can overcome it. I have
always wanted to share my story on this matter because it consumed me
for almost half of my young life and it slowly mold me into the
person I am today. ***
I
was a shy middle school student in 2003 who followed the crowd. It
was a trend when everyone had little cuts on their wrist and I tried
it. I didn't like it the first time until I had my first heart break.
I started with little chicken scratches every other night and
eventually got over it. In 2004, I had my first big break up where I
was lied to, treated like shit, and left hanging. That's when the
real addiction started, I was sitting on the corner of my bed under
my bed side lamp and crying every night. Each night, the line got
deeper and deeper while overlapping the same line from the night
before. It got to the point where my skin would split open and it
bled once the blade swiped pass.
In
late 2005, I was bullied by people who called themselves my "friends"
from rumors spread by one person. I felt like it was me against the
world and I turned my focus on getting good grades during the day,
but at night I felt so worn out that I turned to self-harm. Sometimes
I even brought a tool with me to school and often excused myself to
the bathroom in between classes to get my "fix".
By
2006, I was using self-harm as a way to get away with feeling pain
and stress from everyday petty dilemmas.
Trigger:
What
triggered it for me came from feeling like I was binge eating to
feeling so low. I didn't show much emotions growing up so no one
really knew if they were getting to me. I brought all my pain home
and saved it for bed time because I did not let anyone know that they
can actually make me cry. After years of crying alone, I began to not
feel a thing because I started getting numbed to people's hurtful
words and actions. I self medicated to let myself know that I'm still
"alive" and it was a way to focus my stress into something
else. It helped me forget how cruel people can be because with each
line and each drop, it stung and I was crying from that physical pain
rather than what I was feeling inside.
Stress
Boredom
Anxiety
attacks
Self-loath:
What
was once my occasional outlet became an addiction because what was
once something I turned to for all the stress I faced, I began using
it when I am bored. It became a nightly routine even on days when I
was having a day. I did not need a reason to turn to it because I was
turning an outlet into a habit. A bedtime routine was not complete
without it. The habit became so bad that I started hating myself for
it. I even tried to do cold turkey and tucking away my "trusty
friend" to help me forget, but I felt like I was alone and lost
without it. I did not know how to function without my tools and found
myself searching for new things to experiment with. There was even a
time when I did not know what to do with myself that I swallowed an
entire bottle of iron pills and fell asleep on my carpet floor and
woke up the next morning disappointed that I was not dead. I wanted
to stop self-harming so much that there were nights when I would
write letters to my family members in my journal and stand inside my
closet staring at a tied up rope that I found in the shed. I hated
myself for a long time because I felt like I was different and
carried such a taboo secret that everyone flaunt in school for
attention, but at the same time no one talked about.
I
thought something was wrong with me because all we learned in school
was substance abuse, don't do drug, and use condoms. No teachers ever
taught us that self-harm was also an addiction.
How
I overcame it:
Even
into my adult life, I still turned to my "trusty friend" 5
years out of high school. Life was getting complicating because I was
stressing about the future, and I did not know what I was supposed to
be. It took me 24 years to realized that I am capable of controlling
how I faced each stress and where I should focus on. I learned to
love myself through trial and error. I found my happy place and where
my presence was appreciated. I finally found peace when Joel told me
that he loves me so much and begged me to never hurt myself again.
All
I needed was someone to say that when I hurt myself, they share that
pain I feel. I just wanted to hear someone tell me that they care as
much as they showed it. I overcame this part of my life by finally
realizing that I needed to surround myself with people that
cares, makes me happy, and never ask me to be someone else other than
myself.
Today
I live by Mahatma Gandhi's "No
one can hurt me without my permission."
