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I am free

A brief glimpse into the mind of someone who suffers with self-harming tendencies.

WARNING: This brief musing contains mentions of self-harm and destructive thoughts. May be triggering to some readers, so please don't read this if it is likely to do so to you. I wrote this for a friend who sufferers with self-harming tendencies to show her that she is not alone. There are many people who have, or are self-destructive, but seem to think they are alone in their thoughts. If you are struggling with an addiction to self-harm or you are thinking of self-harming, please contact a friend or a GP and get help. It is NEVER too late to seek it.


My hands shake and fingers tremble, breaths are coming a little too short; a little too fast. My eyes are blown wide with need and panic. Slowly, my hand slips to my waist. Fingers dance beneath the fabric of my pants to the small part of my hem that I have made loose. My fingers gently slide over my only cure. The only way I am going to survive another day. Delicately, I pluck the thin shimmering metal from its hiding place. My breathing shudders as it is raised, glinting prettily in the light. It’s beautiful, yet terrifying. Fingers shake as I raise the pale flesh of my arm to see, hearing the thumping of my blood rushing through my ears as my trembling fingers bring the shimmering metal closer to my living flesh. The first touch of it brings a biting sting and a flash of cold that makes me jerk before regaining my composure and once more I place metal to flesh. Hesitantly and with a pained wince as I chew my lips, the thin metal slips into my skin; seamless and intrusive yet exquisite all the same. Slowly my shaking fingers draw it firmly across the skin of my wrist, once, twice, three times. Sitting back, silent and blissfully numb, I stare as little red beads bubble up then slowly trickle down and a strange completeness and peace flow through me as I sag against the wall. A content smile passes over my lips, and for the briefest of moments… I am free.

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