The Inury Has Stopped, The Urge Continues...Just for warning, my story get's kind of detailed and morbid, my apologies...
I have been cutting myself for almost two years. At first they were shallow and small, but they got worse in time. My cutting was more planned than spontaneous at first, I had supplies nearby to bandage myself, made sure it was in a hidden spot on my body, and always made sure it was shallow enough that I didn't need stitches. Soon the shallow cuts weren't enough, and they got deeper. I tried to stop cutting, but with no other coping method, I began to get horrible anxiety attacks. In my fits of anxiety I might have held my hands against my throat, and sqeezed, somehow it calmed me down. If it wasn't that, I would grab a knife, and not caring where it was or how deep, I'd slice away.
I hear all the time, from doctors included, that most people "cut because the pain is better than the emotional pain they feel". This was never the case with me, I knew it hurt, but what the satisfcation was for me was the blood. When I saw the blood poor from my body, I felt release, I felt relief, even for just a moment. It was in these anxiety attacks that I would cut and cut until I was satisfied with the blood.
My parents had to step in, because they found out, and it was the pain in their eyes, knowing that I did this to myself, that finally pushed me to really try to stop. The urges still come though... but now I look at it as if my depression is winning over me. I am fighting my depression, and everytime I cave in to the urges, it's winning. When I fight the urges, I use another, healthier coping method, I have won. And I must keep on winning until this depression is squashed, and the urges are gone.