Im suicidally depressed. so last year (22 years old) I made my first cut. Small razor blade cut. it bled yes but not very deep. It hought i wont let them get deep. now, my wrists and calves and thighs are COVERED indeep darks cars, cuts that've been stitched up myself because slipped, and cut way to deep. But ic ant go get help. None of us can. We are Trapped. You know youre not alone. You feel alone. So alone. I find myself constantly thinking about cutting. I always have a blade with me. always. Hoping no one will notice my sickness. But secretly hoping someone will. maybe theyll try to help. but im not cutting for attention. maybe im hoping i wont feel so trapped. I think im just venting but.. anyone else feel this way too?