I discovered self-harm when I was in my 20s. I had just started therapy and was feeling really horrid about myself. I was putting the clean dishes away and I dropped and broke a casserole dish. Picking up the pieces, and noticing one particularly sharp one, I casually ran it across my forearm, just to see. It didn't draw any blood, but it started something. I began to use a razor blade with a goal of getting deeper each time until I found a vein or artery. I didn't know anything about BPD and had never heard of a "cutter."

I eventually got better and just stopped. Except for the scars I left, I would have forgotten about it. Then in my mid-40s, I had a breakdown and went back to t. I was in pain, but really forgot that method of providing relief until I was inpatient and was triggered by another patient who was a cutter. Click! I'm much too old for this, but I still do it on occasion. I get some kind of bizarre satisfaction out of seeing myself bleed. A few days ago, I needed a box cutter and, while cutting open the box, I casually nicked myself on the hand. Just because I had something sharp in my hand, I had to use it on myself.

Because I'm partial to my forearm, I'm able to mostly refrain during short-sleeve weather. But it's no "fun."