well. i started cutting around october 2003. after my parents divorced moving from mexico to canada. etc. my life didn't really seem that bad anybody would have guessed i was perfectly fine but i felt rotten inside. i just hated every new day i wished to die at nights so i would not have to see the sunshine ever again. so then i started cutting i don't know why. i had never seen anything on tv about cutting that i remembered of none of my friends were cutters and i hadn't really heard much about the subject. so that went on for a while it was chilly outside so it worked perfectly i wore long sleeves every day. i had a friend who was going through tough times too but she copped in a different way,drugs. after a while i wasn't satisfied by cutting anymore so i started drinking bleach,beating myself,taking too much pills, scratching, drugs anything that i could do to harm myself i did it. it all started as a "lets skip french class with out getting in trouble thing" so we decided to use the social worker from our school as an escape from classes (me and my friend lets call her lily) so we decide to use her. we let her know a little of information not enough to make her freak out but enough to make her want to keep seeing us regularly and the only time she could see us was school time so it was perfect. i hated her but lily thought we should keep seeing her. i would have rather stayed in class than talk to her once again. but i went along with lily's "plan" and for some reason witch i still cant understand i told her about the cutting about the wanting to die as i was talking i was trying to stop myself but i had just held it in for too long already. since by that time i was 13 she was obligated to talk to my mother. so she told my mother and recommended her to go see somebody even more specialized. i was right there in her office while she was telling my mother that i was a complete screw up that all she thought i was, was a mask it wasn't really me. right after that me and lily decided to runaway, to runaway from our problems we thought it would work but we couldnt ever get on the train. we were scared to death. now i understand that that feeling was fear not anger not remorse but fear. fear to be forgotten to not find our way back home and fear towards many other things that i still can't figure out. so i came back home that same night. my mother took me to a private psychologist and she asked me a bunch of questions and she said that i was an urgent case and she said that i had to go to the hospital so i went to the hospital that same night and i was admitted i was placed into an almost padded room the first night for observation and then i was transferred to a ward full of suicidals and different cases i was in the hospital for about 10 days doctors,psychiatrists,psychologists, nurses, came in every day asking me the same questions i had been answering over and over again. so many things made me want to kill myself in that hospital more than give me hopes to live. i came back home everything sharp was lock