Holding of Wrist is posting supporter-submitted & inspiring self-harm stories ever Monday & Friday of March, Self-Injury Awareness Month. Today’s blog comes from Molly, please let this story inspire you as much as it inspired us. To share your story, click this!

Well..my dad passed when I was 6, in a truck accident. I became depressed not long after that. I was in the third grade when it happened. Kids in my class made fun of me afterwards because I didn’t have a dad, like they all had.
I self harmed for the first time in grade 6. It didn’t hurt like I thought it would, but it wasn’t the best feeling, either. None the less, it made me feel something. 
Shortly after that I had lost all my friends and I was being called a cow and other fat jokes by mostly everyone. That’s when I became bulimic. To this day, despite having friends and people that love me, I am still Bulimic and no one seems to notice. Somewhere between the first time I cut and the Bulimia, I had developed Schizophrenia. I would wake up in the middle of the night and hear voices calling me, asking if anyone can hear them, and voices telling me to do things, like jump out my window. I lived in a one-level house so it wasn’t a suicidal voice, but I still listened to their demands. I tried explaining to my mom but she thought I was dreaming. 
My cutting only got worse from here, adding a step father who leaves to blow his pay check on bear and strippers, and an emotionally unstable mother who would lock herself in her room and smoke weed, I had become an all time low. Here I am today, grade 9. 14 years old. Bulimic. Schizophrenic. Depressed. I’d like to say it’s gotten better..and in some ways it has. I haven’t cut for 2 and a half weeks..and I’m working on eating better.. I plan on maybe seeking help for my problems in the future..there’s got to be someone out in this world that can help me, right?