I don’t know where it all began, but I don’t think I was ever normal. I like to pretend that I am sane, that everything is alright, but the scars that cover my body don’t lie. I have OCD and anxiety and have been hurting myself since I was 12 (I am now 16). Ever since I was little, OCD has consumed my life.

When I was young I remember banging my head over and over until I got bruises to try to get the thoughts out of my head. For about two years (11-12) my OCD toned down, and I started to feel normal again, life felt so clear. The first time I cut was when I was 12, my mentally instable family, getting bullied at school, and lack of social life caused me to cut. I don’t even know why I started then; I wasn’t sad or happy, just frustrated and needed do something to feel like I mattered. When I was about 13 my mom got sick and very depressed, which triggered my OCD to come back. I became afraid of everything around me, and my whole life become so complex. Everything revolves around that same thought, that same obsession. When my OCD and anxiety gets bad, I loose all control. The fear I have is unbearable and every inch of my body just wants to be dead, and hurting myself is the only thing that makes me feel a little better. Sometimes the cutting/burning hurts so much that the pain is all I can concentrate on, and I get relief. Cutting is the only thing that keeps me from going totally insane.

Other times I cut or burn to punish myself for the thoughts and impulses I get. SI-ing seems to make everything seem so much better. Everything in my life seems to complex, so jumbled, but SI is so clear: I cut myself and it hurt, that is all there is to it.

I have scars all over my body, but I look at them and I see my life, the good and bad. All I can do right now is take everything one day at a time and hope tomorrow will be better.