I have been cutting every other day for the past month, not always getting deeper, but still a little scary at times. I'm still afraid I will cut too deep, and that is a stupid assumption, because I'm too much of a coward to cut any deeper. All my life I have had a phobia of sharp objects (or maybe Harm OCD) and an aversion to pain, which is funny because I self harm.. Maybe it stemmed from spankings when I was younger (read: three years ago) for not behaving, even when there may have been other motivations for my actions and no one cared. I still intentionally hurt myself for punishment, I have taken on that role. Not just physical pain, but watching extremely violent movies, death related sites with violent videos and pictures, later watching documentaries and videos on animal rights websites to remind myself just how selfish I am, how good I have it, how I have no right to complain. Kept me away from the brink of committing suicide until recently. A photographic memory is a curse, you see these images and every time you close your eyes you see the pain and suffering and it helps create nightmares. Nightmares you will feel and remember in the morning. Just like my mom says, how my parents always remind my how good I have it. And the question that has always hung in the air when I was institutionalized "why are you doing this, there is nothing wrong with your life." And they are right When I was really young around age three I self harmed and because I wanted to die because I didn't think my parents loved me and to punish myself. I started cutting six years ago to balance the pain from inside to the outside, to see if I could feel pain because I felt so numb. To see the blood, and let me know I was still alive. Now I do it to make the horrible person that I am feel something I actually deserve, to punish that disgusting, selfish, grotesque thing that looks back at me every time I go near a reflective surface. I still do it to punish myself still, to not feel numb, to balance the pain from inside. It's not like someone is ever going to care and look at me without being repulsed anyways, so its not like the scars make me look any worse. I am such a coward to not be able to cut deep enough, nowadays when I see the blood, I see all those images again, and I feel sick (sometimes have an anxiety attack) and at the same time want to hurt myself even more. I wonder if anyone hates themselves so much so they hate everything about themselves, they are disgusted at living inside their own skin, thinking their own thoughts (in my case, where applicable), even looking or touching their own skin is revolting. Hating not just the flaws and imperfections or blemishes, but their whole body structure, face, hair color, eye color, genetics, height, weight, race, gender, thoughts, feelings, actions, limits, accomplishments (what accomplishments?), intelligence (lack of), stupidity, everything they are, everything they were, and everything they will end up being, everything. Someone who would rather be anyone but themselves, anything but themselves, everything but themselves.