This is my attempt, I'm writing it up in the hope that I learn something about it. I started Self Harming when I was 13. I cut my arms, I had 2 too deep moments, they were hard, and after each one I promised I'd never cut that deep again, I lied. I OD'd when I was 14. The reasons are a blur to me. I see arguments, shouting, and me cutting myself. I remember most stuff well, so I guess I can't see this, because I don't want to, maybe that's for the best. I can't detail what I OD'd on (It could be triggering) but I went to sleep and assumed I wouldn't wake up. I was angry when I did. I took another 2 packets. Two days later, on the way back from school, I curled up and went to sleep on the pavement. I had an awful stomach ache, and I figured that was it. I woke up in hospital. I was on my own, and there was a tube feeding some sort of liquid in to my arm. My selves had been rolled up and my bandages on my cuts were gone, replaced by new ones. I pulled out the drip and tried to stand up. The machine that was connected to the drip started to beep. But people came in and reconnected it, and I fell asleep again. When I woke up this time, I didn't disconnect the drip. But I did take off the bandages they'd put on, and roll my sleeves back down. After a while a nurse came in, She told me that I'd been found unconscious on the street, when an ambulance arrived they found empty packets of (can't name it) in my bag, and found my cuts. They put 2 an 2 together and put me on a drip for it. She got me to give her my phone number so she could call my parents, and then she wanted to redress my cuts, but I would let her. I said that they were mine, and I was the only one who could dress them. My family cam in later, I wish they hadent. I didnt really care about what my Mum thought, but my Sister looked really hurt. I couldn't tell how my dad felt, I couldn't look at him. My Mum insisted that she stay in the hospital, I wished she hadent I needed time on my own. On the second day some people from an organization called CHAMS (I forget what it stood for) came to talk to me, there were 3 of them. Two of them talked to me, but the 3rd one just wrote stuff down. They focused on my cutting for ages, they didnt seem to understand that I needed, that It was a part of me. After about a half hour, the first two went out, I think they went to talk to my parents. Anyway the 3rd one stayed with me. Out of everyone I've ever met shes one of 4 that actually understood me. She was 21, and sort of training on the job. She talked to me like a friend. She asked me about bands (We had the same music taste, so that was kinda cool) and TV, just normal stuff. After a while she did ask me about cutting but she actually listened to what I said. I haven't seen her after that, but she's left a permanent mark on my life. I stayed in hospital for 1 more day, then they let me go. I had to go see the CHAMS people every week for the next 3 months, but the nice one was never there. One thing that everyone drilled in to me when I got out was, don't cut, don't cut. And I dient, well almost, I made light cuts, I needed to, but they wernt too deep. Anyway, a couple of weeks ago my Girlfriend walk in on me making one of my light cuts. She dumped me, and I threw my self back in at the deep end, I slashed at my arm, and made yet another too deep cut. About a week later I found myself on this forum. Thanks for reading this, It's really helped me to get all this off my chest.