Twelve

That’s the age my brother is turning tomorrow. Twelve years old. The age that I started cutting.

He is still so young in my eyes. I still see him as a little kid. And to think that I started cutting when I was his age…wow. I was still so YOUNG. Even now when I tell people how old my brother is, they’re like ‘Oh, that’s a pretty big gap between you’ and ‘He’s little.’

It’s hard for me to remember now, me as a twelve year old, what made me cut for the first time, why did I do it…

But I just can’t believe I was so young then. Only realising my brother is twelve now made me realise it. Even though at the time I didn’t feel like I was really young at all.

I read an article in the STM on the weekend which was about self harm and some of the issues teenage girls face these days. One of the people in that article was a woman who started self harming when she was 9. She’s 50+ now. I don’t want to be that woman. I don’t want to be self harming for 40+ years. I thought my 5 years was long already. Forty years is so much longer. Even worse is that one day she accidentally went too far with her SH and cut a nerve in her thigh so now she has to use crutches and leg braces to walk. Which is pretty scary…

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