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Well, everyone has a story, and I'd like to share mine.
My name is Haven, I'm 15, and for two and a half years I was a cutter and was suicidal. I had clinical depression and it ruined two and a half years of my life that i will never get back. But now I'm living in the present, not worrying about my past problems. I have actually learned from them.
Everyday was the same; I went to school, cried during school sometimes, kept to myself and was alone most if not all the time. I had a few friends that were there for me to try to cheer me up. I thought that the world hated me, that everyone wanted me to suffer and that no one cared. I felt so disconnected from the world, my friends, and my family. I barely talked, and when I did, I just put on a smile to please people. I didn't feel any emotions except for sorrow, helplessness, hopelessness, and dullness. When I didn't feel pain, I felt completely dull, numb. It actually scared me sometimes. I thought I had finally lost my mine. I would sit in the middle of my floor rocking back and forth hugging my knees to my chest. Other times I'd be laying in the floor in fetal position, crying, or staring blankly at the wall, ceiling, or whatever was infront of me. I thought that this was really going to kill me. I didn't talk to anyone about this, although they all knew that there was something wrong with me. I found comfort or a little release of tension, numbness, fear, etc., through my writting, drawing, and cutting.
Through my writting, I tried to describe my feelings the best way I possibly could. I myself didn't even understand what I was feeling or why. I was scared. I was alone, or so I thoguht.
One day I was sitting on my bed drawing a picture of a girl cutting herself with a razor, a pool of blood beneath her. All of a sudden my older sister cam into my room and saw the picture. She sat down next to me, and she just cried. She asked me "Is this what you feel like?" I told her "yes." She asked me "Is this what you do to yourself?" I told her "...yes." She cried and said that she blamed herself for not helping me, for not being there for me, for not preventing this. I cried as well. She eventually stopped and told her that she was going to get our mom and tell her to go into my room. I said ok. When my mom came in, I talked to her, I showed her the picture. She didn't cry; I was glad. I couldn't watch her cry, I couldn't stand the thought of it. A few days later, my mom took me to go see a therapist. I saw him every two weeks to talk. He gave me worksheets to fill out and little quizes to take to see what kind of depression I had. He didn't help. I ended up dating an 18 year old high school drop-out that smoked and when my parents found out and went to go talk to him and his parents, I cut depper than I ever had and then ran away. The next day during school, I spent the whole day with my face in my arms crying. After school, my mom took me to go see the therapist, although I refused to talk.
Eventually I opened up and talked about what I was feeling then. Later, I told my mom that I wanted to discontinue seeing my current therapist. My mom accepted my decision and said we'd find a new one. She found one quickly and I went to see her as soon as possible.
Kate (my newer therapist) ended up helping me a lot. She really connected with me and really knew what i felt. Still, I continued to cut, but less often.
After discontinuing my meetings with Kate, I still cut a few times, but I did it secretly only about once a month. I have managed to stay cut-free for quite a while now and I'm very proud of myself. I got out of my depression during the beginning of the year but slipped in and out of it occasionly throughout the year. Things have been much better for me and I am now living a normal life withoug any therapists, depression and anger excersizes, depression, and cutting. I am much happier now and I'm glad that I have my family and friends that are here for me and I love life now as it is. I look forward to the future but live in the present. I dream but keep my feet on the ground. I now give advice to people who have the same problem that I had. I am open to give my voice to the world and make this a better place. I love you all, although many and most you you I do not know and have never met. I wish you all happy, full, fufilling, long, successful lives.

I had a suicide problem as well. The feelings you experience are frightening. I use to have a bunk bed and I would sit at the top of it with one end of a scarf tied around my neck and the other end tied to the fan. I would sit there for hours just staring at the ground completely blank and numb. But just know, if you are still feeling things like this or like you were, you can always talk to me. I will listen and I will hear you. I will also give my words if asked for.

Thank you, I really appreciate that. I just want others to know that they aren't alone out there. Even thought all of those people know that there are soo many other people in the world that do this, they still feel alone, trapped, and helpless. I don't want anyone to ever feel like that.
Thank you for your praise. smile

went through his a long time ago when I was 14-15. Angst was my middle name.
It was stupid to do.

I had many reasons for doing it though.
One being my dad, who I found out was a ***** when I was 14 and being verbally absuive for most of my life.
My mom for not listening to me when I told her.
I had low self esteem.
My rocky relationship with my gf.
And how much I felt my life sucked.

I have since then have been able to stop doing that... and realized hurting myself was not worth it when it was other people causing the problems... and looking bad I felt immature for doing it.