When I was about eight years old my brother was diagnosed with a rare and life threatening disease. My parents did everything they could, but they didn't know how to cope with a sick child. I ended up getting neglected most of my childhood after that, and in return, I got bitter. I went to many therapists after that, and they all told me it wasn't their fault, so I didn't know what to do, but punish myself for being so mean. I first started self injuring when I was about nine. I started by pulling out my hair and purposely being clumsy...I would fall down and try to break bones. When I was thirteen I cut for the first time. It was more of a scratch than anything else, just barely below the skin. It got progressively worse through the next few years, going on and off. I am now fifteen and in the last year, I have been hospitalized for suicidal attempt number two. I don't want to hurt my family, but it's hard when you feel so incredibley lonely and hurt inside. I cut to feel alive. I cut to feel relief of all my sorrows. I wish I could tell them it's not their fault, but I can't bring myself to let the words out. I am now in the ED (emotionally disturbed) program at school and I am home schooled until I can get back "together". My brother is very bitter towards me because he doesn't see my pain. He sees a little girl trying to get attention. If only I didn't get attention. I don't like it. My mother is ashamed of me and won't tell her own mother that I'm like this. My grandmother is angry at me for feeling this way. She thinks I should "snap" out of it. I wish it were that easy. I'm on many medications to get me "right" in the head, I hope they work. =)

*Update*

I'm off all medications, haven't cut in about 9 months, and I am extremely happy in life.