Follow the true story of my struggle with self injury, bulimia, and with my own mind.
Constant anxiety and an abusive past brought me to intentionally and repeatedly cut my own leg, burn my wrist, and beat my arm with a wrench.
After learning of my self-infliction, a caring doctor offers to take on my case.
I get admitted to a psychiatric ward. I work hard to recover, while at the same time, my fear of gaining back the weight I lost, and of losing my violent means of coping, causes me to fight against the help I so desperately need.
I was where all the rules were made for me and I had to obey.
I watched a lot of people crying out in fits. I've seen them destroy the things in their path. I've heard the staff call for security and moments later, I'd see the patient get carried away by a dozen strong men. Soon, that patient was tied to a bed in an isolation room. My heart ached for those that got tied down. I had no idea that I would soon become one of them.
I continue to lose control of my cutting, and soon I develop an eating disorder: bulimia. Years of secrets trained me to stay quiet, but soon I find myself coming forward about my problems to the people I love. Let me tell you about how I dealt with the loss of my secrets and about how my family reacted to my need to bleed.
Let me introduce you to the unique men and women who were admitted to the ward alongside me.
Let me tell you what all this was like for me.
This story has descriptive detail of acts of self-Injury. I warn you of triggering content.
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