My (Long) Story

by Helena
(Canada)

It started out as biting myself. I'm not sure why, but whatever. I craved the pain.

Well, I didn't check my phone messages the night before and I didn't know my Grandfather was coming to drop some things off. (The one day I DON'T catch the messages). So, it being my summer break), I stayed up super late and slept in really late! My grandmother had to drive all the way from downtown ( 30 minute drive) from where she works to unlock the door. My grandma comes up to my room and started shaking me awake. She started yelling at me, telling me I needed to not be so stupid and get to bed on time. I went downstairs and my Grandfather starts LECTURING me starting with "Why would you do something so stupid?"

After that, I was on the brink of tears. He left and I went inside, biting and biting my arm but it didn't feel like enough. On an impulse, I went into my mothers room and pulled out a clean razor from one of the boxes. She uses them for taking off thick dead skin on her feet... nasty. Anyways it was new and un opened so I cut myself a few times. Only 2 cuts.

But after that I cut more and more. I did it for a week leaving 14 scars on my arm. I quit after that week, knowing it could become a bad addiction. But now, every time I feel depressed, the arm I cut on aches and feels weird. It's the weirdest urge ever.

Well ya, that's my story.