"I’ve always been the tallest girl in my class and my so-called
friends regularly bitch about me behind my back and bully me. I
hate being different, but the harder I try to fit in, the more they
reject me.
My parents are divorced and I lived for many years with my
mother and my grand-mother who really looked after me. My mother
was always busy at work or with her friends or boyfriend; she
travelled a lot. I never felt that she was really there for me. My
father remarried to a much younger woman who hates me and I hate
her – I still do.
A couple of years ago, I was changing for PE and noticed that
one of my friends has bright red lines all the way down her arms;
she usually wore long sleeved tops, even in the summer, so I had
never noticed them before. I was shocked and she confided in me
that she regularly cut herself. I couldn’t understand why – she had
everything, wealthy parents and wonderful holidays all over the
world. She told me that her parents were never around and that she
spent a lot of her time by herself. She felt that when she cut
herself, she got rid of the pain and the loneliness.
I am now sixteen and have been regularly cutting myself for more
than a year. I hide the knife or the scissors under the mattress
and when my mother goes to bed, I cut my arms and the top of my
thighs. Some days are worse than others, particularly when I get
upset.
My mother noticed the marks on my body and took me to the GP who
put me on antidepressants, but I never took them. I am now seeing a
psychotherapist. I go every week, but I still have a lot of things
to sort out and it’s taking time. I’m not doing it so often, only
when I feel very stressed. I know it’s dangerous, but it’s a very
difficult thing to stop doing."