I can’t pinpoint where I first encountered the notion of self-harm—perhaps it was at school or from a dramatic portrayal on a teen series. What I did know was that it would offer a sense of relief. Well, “relief” wasn’t the right word; I simply craved to feel something—anything.
It wasn’t until therapy that I learned the term for my struggles: covert perfectionism. On the surface, I projected a carefree demeanor, but inside, I was a tightly wound ball of anxiety. The need to achieve perfection consumed me. The thought of failing was terrifying, and the pressure was relentless.
At 15, this need for perfection translated into immense self-imposed pressure. I felt I had to excel academically to gain my teachers’ approval. I believed I needed to be the ideal child to earn my parents’ love. I thought that if I could just be everything to everyone, my happiness would follow.
However, the reality was that this pressure only led to numbness. I became emotionally desensitized, unable to feel joy, sadness, or even pain. I wore a mask of a happy teenager, presenting a relaxed facade while feeling utterly empty inside.
Then, I reached my breaking point.
One evening, I found scissors on the bathroom counter. With trembling hands, I separated the blades and pressed them against my arm. The pain was intense, but that was the goal. For the first time in months, I felt something—anything. The physical hurt was accompanied by a flood of emotions, tears streaming down my face. It was a release, a way to reconnect with feelings I thought I had lost forever.
For months, I continued this cycle of overwhelming pressure, depression, numbness, and release through self-harm.
Eventually, my sister discovered what I had been doing and confided in our parents. That night, I felt enveloped in unconditional love—a stark contrast to the darkness that had surrounded me for so long.
Therapy revealed that I had been grappling with a significant depressive episode. Over the years, I’ve come to accept that depression is a part of my life, and that’s okay. I’m grateful for the medication that helps me manage it. I wish I had access to these resources while I was in high school.
This is my personal account of why I turned to self-harm. The pressure to be perfect almost consumed me. While it’s easy to dismiss teenage angst as typical behavior, it’s essential to recognize that some adolescents are genuinely struggling. They need that extra support—someone to listen, to ask questions, and to show love.
If you notice something off about your teen, don’t ignore it or chalk it up to typical teenage phases. It might be daunting to confront the truth and see the scars, but you can make a difference. You can be the light that saves their life, just as my family did for me.
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In summary, my struggle with self-harm stemmed from intense pressure to be perfect, but love and support from my family helped me break free from that cycle. If you suspect a loved one is suffering, reach out and offer your unwavering support.