I've always been afraid of cuts. Paper cuts make me sick....and knives just flat out freak me out. So why did I pick up that knife and cut myself four weeks ago? Hell if I know. I read the sticky on the self-harm page about cutting - the one about how it will spread all over my body and I won't be able to stop it, how it will take over my life and everything will go down hill. I thought, "Yeah, right, that won't happen to me." Tough luck, I guess. Cause it has already started to happen. My cuts started out as four or five parallel lines....barely even scratches...I've been going deeper and deeper now...the cuts just go every which way. I never go that deep...I haven't gotten a flow of blood yet, but my arm is just riddled with cuts and I can't seem to stop it. Every time I'm done, I stare at the wounds and wonder what possessed me to do it. I have no idea. Some say it is to show that we can control our physical pain, due to the fact that we can't control out mental pain. I don't think this is the case with me. I think I cut to try and control my mental pain. Its almost as if I enjoy having a shittier life...For some reason I am drawn to the pain. I don't want the good things to take over, because they have seemed so rare, that I don't want them to dissappear. I guess I don't want to use up all my good memories, so I have to create bad ones. I just don't want this to get out of hand, but I don't see it stopping anywhere in the near future. Does anyone have any suggestions? Thanks for your time.