i started self harming when i was 11 years old because i had to, my mom and step dad made me punish myself its always been a comfort to me.. the only one i knew... my mom self harmed i used to clean up her mess my main reason was punishment. being sat up in my room by myself for hours on end just starein and at my bare walls and lonely bed i questioned why i was always alone what made me such a bad kid i had to listen to the shouting the things brakeing why couldnt i go and play with the girl next door why couldnt i go and play football with the boy outside... was my family ashamed of me? why? what did i do?

maybe my mom wanted me around to clean up at the age of 12 id mastered the art of lieing and cleaning up the blood and smashed cup and whatever else was broken that day... i tryed to write about it but it made no diffrence i was constantly in the dark kept out of site from the neighbours incase they saw the marks on my body maybe? escorted to and from school ... my only friend was my biggest secret i was to scared to have anymore. i took comfort in watching my blood stain my matress at night under my covered with whatever sharp thing i could find to rip into my wrists and get rid of the worthless feeling i had. no one knew... only my mom knew she taught me how to do it safely. which i guess i can thank her for..

for 5 years i had this secret shame but i couldnt take it anymore i left i went to my dad.. i told him i wanted to go to college and i had a better chance with him i think deep down i was screaming save me get me away from this house but he did he saved me from my nightmare. he never knew what i was doing though he thought me sweat bands where part of my style untill one day.. out of no where

"show me your wrists" he barked...i just couldnt react i had no excuise not to... he gently touched my sweatband and took a blood stained tissue out his pocket and sat me down.. id forgot to put it away last night... "please georgie" i slowly pulled off my bands and hung my head in shame i saw my dads heart brake. but it didnt stop me i never evem told him why i just left i ran and sat on my own in a local park.. this was ruining my life it was controlling my life, every time i saw something sharp it was like stareing at fire i couldnt look away. i was addicted to my own blood my own pain it had to stop if i wanted my dream to come true... it had to stop. i went home and i said to my step mom

"i self harm" thats was it my first step the first tiny bit of weight off my shoulders i admited it i heard my own voice admit it. all these years my own mom gave me the tools i needed to hurt myself and how to do it safely without leaveing scars i didnt understand why it hurt my dad so much at first then i realised i had nothing to punish myself for i was not the one who had the problem i just had it passed onto me. my step mom helped me see it had to stop and with help i did.. in time.. what would of been a slash turned to a scratch then what was a scratch... was nothing... with my head held high i walked into the armed force careers office "i want to join the royal navy"... november 30th 2008 i walked through the gates of hms raleigh and febuary 23rd 2009 i passed out a sailor with my head held high seein my dad and step mom smilein at me i had done it.. id made something off my life... my scars didnt matter everything from my past didnt matter i was a new person... but this dream didnt last

june 13th 2010 i was escorted out the gates off hms collingwood a civillian again. the shame that washed over me was un bearable. i failed my branch i couldnt pass that final exam i failed by 2% i lost my career i went home and never spoke a word... all that work... felt like i had dome it for nothing what so ever... starein at my walls again... i felt thoughs old feelings comeback.. a shadow.. a ghost.. not liveing egzisting... id disgraced my military family.. i was 6th generation to join and first to fail... maybe i wasnt worth anything i didnt deserve my family name... quick look through my dads tool kit.. stanly blade... took it to my room and brutalised my wrists apart of my wanted to push that bit deeper but with my dads picture infront off me i couldnt i just wanted to punish myself and ow didnt i just... i still have the scars clear as day.

im tryin to see value in my life again but ... with the constant fear of failur the constant shame about my arms and legs about myself.. how am i meant to... ive lied about my addiction for so long.. convinced the world i am fine and havent done since a teacher caught me when i was 15 but its so easy to convince everyone im fine.. people would rather cope with a fake smile and that deal with the tears. im not stayin quiet no more... i need help i want to feel that pride again, i just dont know how.....