I used to slit my wrists but people always found out about it. Sometimes I cut my thighs with a box cutter and nobody finds out because I only wear long pants. I also smoke a lot if that counts.

I cut myself up pretty bad. It makes the depression go away enough that I can keep doing what I need to in life. Burned myself, starved myself, made myself go without sleep. A lot of times after I'd been up 72 hours working or so, I'd down 10 or more extra strength tylenol pm before collapsing into bed. I don't know how the hell that never made me sick. My liver must be mush by now. Don't do that anymore though, since I'm on so many sedative and shit.

I’ve celiac disease, and I don’t do particularly well at meal planning and preparation when in this state, so I often end up eating whatever is around. It’s the easiest and worst sort of self-sabotage I’ve engaged in.

I don’t sleep much when depressed, and I always end up not sleeping at all if I know I’m going out the next day.

In the past when I was manic and suicidal I verbally provoked people into attacking me, which resulted in temporary blindness, and now it’s always that eye that goes out first when I experience migraines, so I assume I have mild brain damage—no way to be certain.

I have scars on my right hip that are raised and probably permanent from my cutting habit that date back to 7-8 years ago...
I lose my appetite under heavy stress...I have an eating disorder to begin with, so throwing too much more on top of that makes me too physically ill to still want to ingest food. That is, I get stressed to the point of feeling like I'm going to hurl, and then loose my appetite all together from the physical pain of it. I've also broken both of my hands on two different occasions from random violent outbursts to break up a stupid argument. As well as over-indulged in alcohol. I also smoked cigarettes for 6 years, and I was born with arrhythmia and sleep apnea to begin with...smoking, only further fucked up my lung/heart condition.

Quoth My Dying Bride, "My body is a funeral"

It's peace of mind that I need. Whatever happens to my body in the process, so be it. It's a consequence I'm willing to take for the sake of the desired effect. The funny thing is that I realize how completely and utterly self-destructive of a way of thinking that is...but, wanting that mental clarity is more than anything else. My girlfriend of 7 years is a psych. major, and has recently suggested the she might think I have major depressive disorder...I disregarded it at first...but really when I read over it it did seem a little too all familiar and specific...and furthermore, I do exhibit symptoms of a depressive episode and in thinking back on my mental state history, it has happened before like this...I'm sadly starting to think she might be right...I should probably seek a therapist and/or doctor...but...what's the point? I don't have the finances to support that... :-/

Refuse food and drink and sleep until I pass out over and over again.

i don't eat or sleep if my mood is really bad.
i use to cut a lot, now it's only occasionally idk.
did this the other day, cause i got mad at myself for crying LOL

~forever sitting in the dark~

I stabbed myself in the neck once with a seven inch blade. Luckily the way the blade was shaped made it slide and slice me instead of stab right into me and the slice didn't completely fuck up my tendon and paralyze me forever. I can't imagine how different my life would be if I didn't fail so very miserably at trying to kill myself, . Sometimes failing is good.

Aye, if you didn’t fail you’d have no life, and if you hadn’t failed so spectacularly you’d quite possibly be paralyzed. I get it. Why a knife to the neck, was it impulsive or planned?

Sometimes I wonder how my life would be if I hadn't accepted medication; maybe I’d be dead, but just maybe I’d have stabilized and my eccentricities would’ve made me… not unique, but valuable as a rarity; that crazy as fuck archetype that keeps you watching a show /reading a book because his or her insanity and antics are frightening yet fascinating—the unaltered manic depression might’ve been my muses. The medication took them away for a time, but failed to ultimately extract their poisons, and probably took a portion of my mind as compensation.

I never seem to stop being paranoid that I've lost more than years-- something innate.

I pick and squeeze my skin, and most of the time I don't even realize I'm doing it. I've got a few strange (what looks like) bruises on my skin because of this. They don't hurt or anything, they just don't go away. I've always done this, but I'm not doing it as much as I used to anymore.

knife into neck sounds terrible

I remember the times, when I crawled under the futon, cutting my arms, my back, my legs, my neck,... just to have a clean mind and fall asleep in the morning... I also hit a wall with my head several times or tried to under-cool myself with ice cubes and cold water...

i used to cut myself a lot when i was younger. once i cut my legs deep enough that i probly should have gone to hospital but i disinfected it and covered it right so it didnt get infected but it hurt like a bitch for about a week and i have some narly scares now. i dont do that anymore but only cos it freeks by boyfreind out so the most i do now is hit my arms, a few bruses can be put down to clumsyness without question.

i did one try and kill myself as well, i drank about a litre of vodka, this was back when i was a skinnyhalf starved thing so it probly would have but i drank it too fast so i spent the next hour or so puking instead. it was on the day befor my birthday ive never been able to celerbrate them since and this was about 4 years ago. No one knew what id done or tryed to do id been lloking ill for a while so my family thought i had a stomach bug from hearing my puking. i was thourouly disheartened by the experience and havent done anything like it since.

I used to cut myself a lot when I was younger but it was mostly controlled and never usually caused a lot of damage. But sometimes I would just hack away at myself without any concern. I once cut my leg very deep and it didn't stop bleeding for a long time. It stopped eventually but a few days later I noticed that my jaw would sometimes lock up when I was eating. I realised that this was not a good thing, but I couldn't tell anyone. My family's previous response when they found out that I was self harming was hardly sympathetic. So I had to pick off the scab and clean out all the mess as best as I could. I thought I was going to die. But it left a nice scar and apparently chicks dig scars.

Well. I used to cut myself with thumbtacks. It hurt a lot but didn't bleed much, so it usually wasn't problematic. I generally stuck to my thighs, but once, after a few years of doing it, I ran out of room on every concealable part of my body, got desperate, and cut my face pretty badly. A year or so after starting recovery I started occasionally using scissors, but those cuts would bleed for hours and hours and just wouldn't stop, so it became... problematic. I also used to tear skin using my nails without realizing what I was doing, and once during a breakdown I ended up clawing a huge area on my wrist raw in front of my step-dad. I tried to kill myself once a few years ago as well, but I just became very, very sick. I don't hurt myself anymore, though.

I've not been eating properly. I thought it was just out of laziness or bad habit, but I realised that it always coincides with me being stressed and upset. I will get hunger pains but not do anything about it.