My brother has a lot of problems: ADHD, ODD, depression,…to name a few. He’s a nice boy. He confessed to me that he self harmed, and I had to talk to him and tell him that I have also self harmed for over seven years and that although I didn’t want him to feel shame and that he can talk to me about anything, that I preferred if he stopped because I know what it’s like and I don’t wish it on anyone. especially my brother. I’ve never been diagnosed with depression the way my mom and brother have because everybody always assumes that I’m fine.
I started cutting in about fifth or sixth grade when I was being bullied so badly that I became suicidal. Keep in mind that I went to a private Catholic school. I changed to a wonderful environmental school for eighth grade where everybody was so kind and I was no longer bullied. I went to a boarding high school after that. I was successful in getting away from my bullies. The issues changed. Now I cut because of loneliness. Even though I was surrounded by friends, I felt separate from the world. I cut because of my own feelings of inadequacy. Contrary to common beliefs that people cut to get attention, or because it feels good, or to fulfill some sick need to see my own blood; I cut because I felt a release of built up energy when I self harmed. The pain at that moment almost reminded me that I was alive. I needed the pain to feel like a living human being rather than some sad and wandering ghost. I’ve never done it often. Maybe twice per month. I didn’t want anyone to find out because I wasn’t trying to get attention, I was simply trying to do well in the world in spite of all the s*** going on around me. I wanted to be someone who rose about the obstacles and be successful. And “cutting” would never fit into this idea.
I’ve always been the smart one, I’m going to a great university, I’m a Biology Major double minoring in neurology and psychology, I’m going to become a surgeon; I’ve always been the level-headed one that everyone trusts and goes to, and if anyone in my family found out that I self harm, their image of me would change and I would lose the respect and trust they have for me. Most of all, I feel that my image of myself would change, but not for the better. I’d rather bear the burden of keeping this a secret than the changes this would cause in how my family sees me.
Recently (like yesterday) my brother confessed to his psychologist about his self harm, and of course they had to tell my mother. She is devastated. She calls me this morning tell me about it, and confides in me all her emotions. I know that all my brother’s issues hake her feel like an inadequate parent. This is yet another reason why I can’t tell her or anyone about my self harm. It would devastate her the way my brother’s cutting is. But I’m afraid that now that he has put it out there, that he may tell her about me. I would never be able to deal with that. I can’t even…