Addiction is a very complex and disturbing problem to have but when you think that self harm can be a form of addiction it just adds more confusion. I have often had people ask me why did I self harm. Why am I an addict?

I can only tell you what I felt and thought at the time. I can tell you what went on for me. Some of this may be disturbing to you and upsetting. That is not my goal of this post or this website.

My goals for this website are simple. I want other people that are going through the same thing to realize that they are not alone, they are not crazy. I want them to know that they can heal and they can find happiness no matter how far they have gone. There is hope. May you find it now.

So Why Did I Self Harm? What brought it on?

This is not a simple story to tell. For as long as I can remember I have always had the belief that I am different, that something is wrong with me. I have felt like there is a hole in me and there has to be something to fill it.

There are some specific incidents that happened just before I started cutting myself but did this make me do it? Is this the reason? No, I don’t think so. I think the black hole that lives within me is the reason I started doing it. The events that happened in my teenage years just sparked my addiction off.

Perhaps I might not have been a self harmer, but I would have turned to addiction at some stage.

The Black Hole Inside of Me

So what is this black hole I speak about?

Well it feels like I am not enough. Yes I did say that correctly, the word is simply “enough”. I was not enough of anything in my mind. I thought one day everyone would know I was a fraud.

I wasn’t clever enough, I was stupid. If I did a test and I did well I didn’t congratulate myself and take the credit. Deep down I was convinced I must have cheated and everyone would find out.

I wasn’t pretty enough. I wasn’t nice enough.

I can’t explain this, but what I do know now and it is a common thing with addicts. We all feel this black hole.

I just wanted people to like me, to love me, but I believed I wasn’t lovable. I believed I didn’t deserve it.

I was self conscious and I was shy. You probably wouldn’t believe it if you saw me, but that is the truth. I hid it by being loud mouthed and out there. I tried to protect myself by making myself out to be someone else. I was soft hearted and sensitive but came across as tough.

Gossip and Lies

Teenage years are rocky for all young adolescents. For me it was terrifying. It seemed I hit 13 years old and the black hole and my insecurities grew bigger. I wanted people to like me. I also started noticing boys and my peers started dating. I wanted to join in, but I was too scared.

I remember clearly there was one boy in particular that was popular and he had the most amazing personality. He clearly showed in interest in me but I was too scared. If he spoke to me I would literally turn and run. Interesting to note that many years down the line, on a drunken night out we bumped into each other in the parking lot of a popular pub and we kissed.

So back to what happened. I was too shy to even hold hands with a boy, but I wanted to. I wanted to do these normal things, but I just couldn’t. I felt like I wasn’t good enough. If I dated a boy he would find out what I was really like and he would hate me. Maybe he would tell everyone I was a fake? It was too much for me.









One day I came home from school and my parents sat me down and asked me about things that they had heard. Some other parents had told them about things they had heard about me. From what my parents told me it appeared I was a big slut, sleeping around and doing all sorts of inappropriate things with boys. Talk about being in shock.

I was 13 years old and it was humiliating. I went to school the next day with my eyes opened. I apparently had a reputation and I was the last to find out. I was hurt and ashamed.

I couldn’t understand. Who had made up these lies, who exactly had heard these lies? How had these lies gotten as far as my parents… and what was a blow job anyway?

This went on for months. I can’t even begin to explain how I felt.

He likes me, he really likes ME!

I turned 14 and things stayed much the same until we went away at the end of the year. While we were away at the end of the year I met a boy. He was a bit older than me and he was cute. Most importantly he couldn’t have heard about my reputation. He liked me and it was exciting. We held hands and later that day he kissed me. I loved that excited feeling in my stomach.

I had to go back to my family and he asked me to sneak out that night, would I? Hell yes, of course I would. This was the best thing that ever happened to me.

In case you are getting a nice gooey feeling about how my life was turning around finally, don’t. Because as fast as I was taken up into that great feeling I was brought crashing down to earth very quickly.

I snuck out that night and he raped me. He left me crying and bleeding in the middle of the night. I had my first kiss and lost my virginity in the same day.

I was crushed, hurt and humiliated.









To top it off I was busted sneaking out before I could tell anyone what had happened to me. I thought if I said anything then that they would think I was lying and just trying to get out of being in trouble. I kept it all to myself. I should have spoken to my parents because I was wrong. My parents are amazing and would have helped me. Instead I kept quiet and a while later I tried to talk to my little sister, she was twelve years old at the time and didn’t understand what I was trying to say.

We were very close and she was getting distressed. She knew I was trying to tell her something important but she didn’t get it. I left it because I didn’t want her upset.

I withdrew a lot and I was very angry.

Here we go again!

A few months later I was raped again. I won’t go into details about what happened because this is not just only my story and I don’t want to make anyone else feel guilty or like they are responsible. That is not the point of my story, this is about something else.

What happened is that this second rape was like a switch went off in me. I turned into a very angry and rebellious person. Yes I was always a little bit naughty, I won’t deny it.. but this is when I changed completely.

I could feel anger inside me all the time, just ready to explode out of me. It scared me. I started treating my mom really badly. For some reason I decided she was the one I was angry with and she bore the brunt of my anger and actions.

I am sorry mom. I love you with all my heart. I didn’t mean to do that, it was just the way it happened.

I Started Cutting Myself

At the same as I became a bubble of anger I started cutting myself. I remember the first time I did it. I was so confused and I didn’t know what I was doing. I had never heard of self harm and I didn’t know why I was doing it.

I found a blade at home and I held it against my skin and I pushed it in. At that moment I felt nothing. I felt free. It was like bliss. As long as I had that blade in my skin I didn’t feel hurt or angry or ashamed. It was like I was taken out of my own body and held in a safe little cocoon of nothingness.

I did it a few times and each time I cut I felt better, but then afterwards I would feel ashamed and confused.

Soon after I started with self harm my mom saw blood on my school shirt, she saw what I was doing and wanted to know why. I wanted to give in to my feelings and cry, tell her everything.

Ask her to please, please save me mommy. I didn’t though. I screamed at her and told her to leave me alone.

My mom was in a place where she was too scared to confront me about anything because she was too scared of my reaction. She felt I could have done anything and I think she was right, I was out of control. She knew something was wrong but didn’t know what or how to help me and of course I just pushed her away.

On the good side I did stop cutting, well on a regular basis that is. There were a few odd times over the years that I did cut myself again but it was not a regular thing.

That doesn’t mean the problem was just gone though. My addiction just changed it’s face which I will share about in future posts.

Over the years the rapes I went through and my relationships with men formed big problems in my life. This will become apparent the more I share with you.

So Buckle Up, I plan to take you on quite a dark ride on this website and this was the start…..

If you have anything you would like to share please leave a comment.