After that major cutting, the most major of my life, I got help from an intensive outpatient program for teenagers at a local hospital. This was my summer. I was diagnosed with Anxiety disorder. At the time, I was surprised that I wasn't diagnosed with mild depression. But now I realise that I wasn't really depressed at all, I was just overwhelmed with anxiety which gave me symptoms similar to depression for the mere reason that it dilapidated my mind and prevented me from functioning. So much so that they gave me an EEG which is used to detect abnormal brain waves because not only was I falling apart, but I was also seeing things. I was so anxious I also became paranoid which was the reason for the things I saw.
With the help of therapy I stopped cutting for a long time after the summer of therapy which was about 2-4 days a week. When school began I was supposed to go to weekly therapy sessions in my home town. However, I only went to two and then my mother failed to schedule anymore. About two months after that, I was cutting again. Why? Because I felt like shit all of the sudden, I was suicidal again. Pressures from school were getting to me, along with pressures from friends, and feelings of homosexuality. I felt like a sinner and that I was filled with pain. So I cut again out of desperation. I had no one to help me.
My mother saw the new cuts and asked me about them and told me to stop it and get over it. This only drove me a little further. The locations of my cuts changed. Instead of allover my arm and long marks, I made them small, dense, and put them in places that my watch would cover. I didn't want anyone to see because I didn't want to bother them because I felt that I didn't matter. This went on for about a year.