It’s been more than a two years since I realized I needed help. More than a year since I started therapy/medication. It’s been nearly a year since I had my first self-harm episode. I am 23. I have wasted “best” years of my life under this dark cloud. I graduated. I tried my best. I am still trying. This has been the weirdest year of my life because if you ask people around me they might say I am doing alright. Decent grades. Decent social life. Good prospects. But I have only shown the scars on my wrist to one person. I can’t leave my bed for days at a time. My bad mental health is starting to take a toll on people around me too. This is not a cry for help. Please don’t feel sorry for me. The only reason I am writing here is that I haven’t spoken my heart out in ages. This anonymity is something that I needed.
Last month has been amazing I graduated, got a job offer and tried slitting my wrist three times. Weird? This is what’s normal for me. The high I get from self-harm is something I can’t describe. I used to feel guilty initially but now I don’t feel guilty it’s just something I have to do and get on with. I have been taking more than the prescribed dosage for weeks now but I guess the medication has stopped working. The only thing that sometimes terrifies me is that what if I take this too far and can’t return from it. On this #worldmentalhealthday I will just ask people to be a bit kinder you never know what someone might be going through.