Story About Self-harm Novels & Stories

"Sometimes they would leave knives in my skin; they knew that if I moved, it would hurt a lot but I started zoning the pain out. When they inflicted something new, I would pretend it didn't hurt but I was screaming so loudly on the inside, I was begging for them to stop but they didn't. The main man, Jabari, as he said his name was, made it hell on good days. I stopped talking altogether. I didn't want to get hurt but the more I kept quiet, the harder the pain was and the longer they stayed in the room. They would strip me to my bra and burn me or bite me and then once they was happy what they had done, they would refasten my things and walk out like it was a normal day." I got up and starte

She says as if she just heard the most ridiculous accusation of her life. "How not? You heard that I had a cut and the first thing you do is blame me for letting someone tend to me. Is it my fault that I cut myself. Self Harm never appealed to me and I would only grab a knife and cut my arm if I was crazy", I shout almost on top of my lungs. And I was that crazy yesterday, except no one would ever find out about how crazy I was to cut myself for some attention for a man who only rejected and recieved me in the end.

They were the only ones who wouldn't leave me and I wouldn't leave them because we needed each other, because we were the same. Bad for society, bad for health, bad for people and left on a shelf in a dark room to never be used again because all we ever do was hurt more people and caused them to suffer. I fell on my knees crying as I gripped my short hair, the pain in my head pounding as I opened another bottle, popping painkillers in my mouth and drinking alcohol to help it out. I cleaned the bitter and shameful tears in my eyes as I gathered the money I had earned ina day.

“I don’t… I don’t do that anymore if you're curious. When I want to relapse I only just hold it as a way to distract myself but there are times where I want to do it and if I keep having it here it’ll just convince me to continue to harm myself.” I can tell Elliot was still confused so I continued. “I haven’t done it for a year and I don’t want my mom to see me like that. She can barely handle me now and I’ve been in worse states that I really can’t be handled.” I tell him and I look down at my hands. “I’m only telling you because I want to trust you. I want to be normal and do things that everyone can do.”

"Hey just because we're so awesome doesn't mean we can't be sick. Eloive was so depressed, he was barely 8 when he tried to commit suicide" I gasp. "What? How? What did Ruarc do about it?" "Ruarc caused it. I saved him before it was too late. Eloive resorted to self harm before he clocked ten. No amount of therapists can fix him. He's a puzzle missing his own pieces". Self harm? That must explain the tiny scars I had seen on his wrists. Anger swells up within me and it is directed at Ruarc. I hate children, but Eloive was too young to go through something like that.

I answer, telling him half the truth. I never told anyone this apart from an old worker, Jenette. I would hurt myself. I don't know why but I did. Knowing that Vicktor would hurt me I felt so unworthy as if I deserved to feel the pain so I would do it to myself. The first time I did was the third time Vicktor raised his hands on me. I felt everything and nothing at the same time. I remember the day as if it was yesterday. A younger me rushed to the bathroom, searching the cabinets until she found a needle. Confused and hurt to why she has the sudden thought to hurt herself, convincing herself that she deserves it. That she deserves the pain. Pricking the sharp needle into her fingertips watc

Nukea pleads, squeezing my hand tightly now, as if she's the one who needs comfort now. "Oh, dear," I laugh bitterly and take the last swig from the bottle, "There’s no good news. It's only going to get worse from here." "Fucking hell," she groans, her eyes watering with pain for me. Sweet little thing. "It was all too much. I was nothing but a kid, I couldn't handle my life. The only good part of the day was when I went to school and I could be normal for a few hours, with my friends. But then I had to go to the cabin and see the disgusting shit that went on there, and then I had to come home to pretend everything was fine for my mother, only to have Yvanka rape me at night," I sigh, shakin

"Hi, Mandy." The amount of voices speaking back to me is more than I thought there would be when I came into this room, but as the time came closer for the meeting, people just kept streaming in. So here I am with a bunch of people I don't know, trying to fix a life that's gone completely sideways. "I tried to kill myself too," one of the girls sitting on the opposite side of the circle from me says. "Went at my wrist with a pink razor, complete with moisturizing strip."

There was also a transcript of my conversation with the psychologist. —Doctor, I'm so tired. Every day when I open my eyes, I just want to die. —Can you tell me when these feelings are strongest? —Every time I argue with Derek, I feel so much pain that I want to kill myself. But I can't die yet. I still haven't repaid my debt to the Reed family. I need to give birth to a child for them before I die. —When was your most recent self-harm incident? —When Derek brought Sophia back to the mansion.

She had gotten clean for awhile and it would be a habit but not half as bad as it was right now. Her self-harm was the only reason she got up and went to work everyday. If she didn't, she would just quit and tried not to go back there for anything ever again out of shame. The constant agony inside was the other silent killer. Her heart was freezing itself to death until it would eventually break from heartache. The heartbreak would be the one thing that would release her of this suffering. Or would it?