I think I started cutting in 2015, life was a mess at that time, my sister was trying to run away all the time she needed help. The screaming as soon as I would wake up between her and my mom. Having to go to school and not cry from the mix of Sucidal thoughts, stress, and rumors that spread around me. It was a nightmare. I felt so alone, I went into my garage I found the typical “blade” and cut. I kept on cutting and cutting, it was sick but the pain allowed me a release. I had control,control over this one thing. As time went by, and my life became more of a mess and I lost the only person who I truly cared about, they became deeper. Deep enough to almost see bone, spreading like wild fire all over my body. Even when I would wake up and just feel debilitated, it was the first thing I would do. I tried my best to stop, but that was goddamn near impossible, took 3 years. Even after a suicide attempt, it didn’t really help my situation, having extreme amounts of anxiety, this felt like the only option to calm me down. None of my family knew until a about 3 years later, especially since the scars had been so prominent then. I still try my best not to do it because it will lead me down a rabbit hole of wanting it again but, sometimes I get so close as to holding it [blade] to me.