I was 16 when I started cutting. Little tiny cuts on the side of my wrist that only a few people bothered to notice. By 17 I'd moved to my legs. Hundreds of vicious scratches and a dozen or so deep cuts. I knew my limits, so that I wouldn't end up in the hospital, but I could still relieve my inner pain. Then I met my husband who forced me to quit. I had a baby and started feeling down again. I cut myself only once more and my husband told me if I ever did again he'd have me commited and I'd never see my child again. That was good enough of a deterence for me. Then I had another baby who for the life of me HATED sleeping at night. She would cry no matter what or just fuss. The fussing was the worst. I would stand there and watch her wanting to go to bed, but didn't know what she was going to do. Without realizing it I started picking at scabs. At the time I thought it was normal. Pop a zit, get rid of the scab. What I didn't realize is that I was making up the zits and just making up places to scratch and pick at. It took me 8 months to realize it was a coping skill similar to cutting. I wanted the pain and the blood. By this realization I was 22 and was forced to admit to myself that I never really did quit cutting. I stopped for a while. And then again I did the same thing. I started picking without realizing it. By the time I realized it I had scars all over my arms, shoulders, and back. I know how to stop cutting. But this is different. It's not going to put me in any sort of danger. It just makes me look uglier than I already am. I know I should stop, but I keep doing it without realizing it. I thought I was strong, but I just don't know anything anymore.
Anyone else have similar issues? Or changes in their behavior?