I'm used to being in hospitals. I hate them because of the germs and death that seem to live there, but I accept that hospitals have been and probably will continue to be a part of my life ( Read more... )

At a conference yesterday, I was asked about my routine as an injurer. I certainly had one. This was my most private of times alone. The door was locked and deadbolted (I even locked the bathroom door "just in case") and the phone was unplugged. The blinds were closed. The lights in the main part of my apartment, off ( Read more... )

I think self-injury is like a boomerang. No matter how far in the past I've left it, it always manages to come back into my life at the most inopportune moments ( Read more... )

I've always asked a lot of questions. It was never enough for me to know what happened, I needed to know why and how. I was the kid that kept my teachers on their toes and drove my parents crazy ( Read more... )

There are many lies self-injurers tell themselves. I know them well because I used to say them and believe them. But they are lies. And I think once I was confronted with the lies I believed, I was forced to fully face what I was doing, who I was hurting (and it was more than just myself) and what I thought would happen if I gave myself permission ( Read more... )