It has to do with alot of things...why I did it, that is. I started doing it because I had such intense emotion. Like, I would get so frustrated and angry that I thought I was melting...the emotions were horrible to the point where I would do anything to get rid of them...I didn't know how to deal. so I took it out on myself...
...and then I felt calm and relieved afterward...and "in control", if you know what I mean. Satisfied.
I think I'm learning how to handle bad emotions better. Mostly by trying not to have them anymore. 
I started cutting when I was a young girl...10 or 11ish. My parents were religious freaks who would whip me with the belt if I did not pray or go to church. Most of the time, they locked me in my room.
I began reading alot. Every book was interesting to me, but the most wonderful were the fantasy novels that I got from the school library and bought with my own money from book fairs. I loved reading them so much. Well, one day I was reading a fantasy novel in my room, and my dad came in. He saw the book and ripped it out of my hands and asked me how many of these books I had. I told him that I got them from book fairs, and he sat down and calmly explained how these books were what Satan was using to get into my brain and corrupt me. I said that they were only books, but he said thats what Satan wants me to think. I was confused but I didn't say anything. When I came home from school one day though, all of my fantasy novels that I had bought were gone. When I confronted them, they said that they didn't want me reading any more of that 'filth'. I felt so betrayed that they would do that to me, steal my own books. If they caught me reading a "secular" book from the library at school, they took it away.
Also, I was not allowed to listen to anything but Christian music. I didn't even know who Pink Floyd, Elvis or any famous singers were until I was 18. Whenever I listened to the "secular" radio, they turned it off and put in little kid Christian music. My mom still listens to that same old Christian music to this day.
For that matter, I didn't even know about sex until I was 16 and actually started getting some friends. They also wouldn't allow me to see a movie or something with my best friend, because he was black. They said that Jesus said we were supposed to stick within our own flock. I began lying and sneaking around in shame just to see my best friend. It just felt so wrong that they wouldn't let me hang out with him because he was black.
It was such a stifling atmosphere that everything just started building up. I'm not blaming my parents for the fact that I started cutting, but I think they were a factor. They finally found out I was cutting because of some blood on my mattress. They took me to the pastor who said I was possessed by a demon. Even my mom believed him and I felt like she never looked at me the same way. I spent some time in the mental hospital. The hospital didn't really find anything wrong with me aside from the cutting and insurance was running out so they sent me back home where I promptly tried to kill myself.
Yeah...that sucked. It was pretty stupid...I got my stomach pumped and shit and was even more miserable. Everything was just getting worse and worse. And so was the self-injury.
Anyhow, to make a long story short, I had lots of other emergency room visits before at age 18 I finally moved away to live with Kevin in Austin. My parents threatened to estrange themselves from me if I went, but I had to get out of there. I felt like it was a place of death and horror and I knew that if I stayed there, I wouldn't survive. I ended up not talking to my parents for an entire year.
Well, our relationship is better now I guess. Mostly because I'm 300 miles away. But I feel like I'm living a lie whenever I see them. Whenever we do visit them, my mom makes Kevin and I have prayer-time with them, and sing stupid Christian songs with them, and go to church with them. And if I don't, my mom gets all weepy-eyed and depressed and my dad acts all stiff towards me. Once my parents sent a "missionary" to Kevin and mine's apartment to witness to us. And then they always harass me about the cutting every time I go up there. I hate talking about it with them. It brings back alot of bad feelings.
And after rereading all that I just wrote, I know I've come a long way. I'm so much happier and I truly do feel in love with life. I love living and I love Kevin and I don't ever want to be that miserable again. I'm glad that I'm trying to recover from the cutting. I wish that my parents could see me for who I truly am, instead of trying to turn me into what they want me to be. I've told them a million times that I'm not interested in church or religion, but they just don't stop.
So, this was long, but I'm glad I wrote it.
*me*
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