it started when i was 11, i dont even remember where i got the idea exactly, i just remember unscrewing a donald duck pencil sharpener and that started years of addiction. it started and usually always is to cope with mental pain, and physical pain as my disorders got worse as i got into my teens. it felt like a release, and like my pain was real. i also started to just enjoy it, doing it when i wasnt mentally that bad or "needed" it.
i was usually always very particular with how i cut, besides impulsive moments usually intoxicated or melting down. but otherwise it felt nice before, during and after. i would plan when and where i will, usually in the bathroom because i liked the white tile floors the best to bleed on, plan where i will cut and how deep/how many (often went over what i planned tho, unless it was extremely necessary to hide it like my last relapse over 2 years ago)
then i would gather supplies, blades, bandages, aftercare stuff. i didnt want an infection, and was raised by two parents both in or used to be in medical fields, grew up around all that stuff learned a lot of wound care, or how to treat and avoid infection, and when a cut being red while healing is just your body rushing blood there to heal, and not an actual infection. i liked knowing all the facts, having all the supplies. dont know if its part of my OCD, but it was quite obsessive. i spent a lot of time learning where different veins and arteries are, so i don't accidently hit them, figuring out the safest spots that i can still go deep enough
then finally the time comes, usually late at night when everyone was asleep, i was able to sneak into the bathroom, everything hidden under the sink already because i prepped thru the day, could clear the floor and clean my blades, and enjoy the sting, but mainly the blood. thats why i liked the white tiles or a bathtub, the blood just was... beautiful that way, i got very addicted to that part moreso than the pain. usually it didnt even hurt that bad to me, unless i multi-swiped, or the one time i went too deep when drunk, hit a nerve and saw white, now i get phantom pains and shit from it. but god i would be lying if i said i didnt enjoy it.
i liked the cleanup after too, wiping the blood around enjoying it before i wash it away, enjoying the sting of the hydrogen peroxide or alcohol i would pour into my cuts to clean them, then ointment and bandages. i liked bandaging myself up a lot. writing it out now i think its because it felt like my pain was being taken care of, fuck i cant believe that just clicked. growing up with genetic disorders that just got worse as i aged, and it being blamed on my mental health and not seen as real, it felt like i made the pain REALLY real, and now it can finally be bandaged, taken care of gently
i also like my scars, when i had stitches sometimes i would try to take them out and make the cut wider, so it scars bigger. the staff in the ward would joke with me sometimes and say "so i guess you're right handed?" because i only really ever cut on the left side of my body, mainly left thigh and wrist/forearm, a little on my ankle but not a lot. all my scars are white now, you cant really tell unless close or in the right sunlight showing the raised or indented ones. i liked when they were pink still tho, i miss that, at least they turn purple in my thighs when i get too cold
all of that probably sounds weird to those who dont sh, or dont feel all the same ways i do about it. ik my friend found it crazy saying that i missed it. and i understand why. my brain just finds it... pleasing? grounding? overall a relief, and the endorphin rush from a good cut, especially when its deeper than i meant to, or the time i was curious and slowly stabbed into a cut with small sissors until i heard this pop that sounded also like velcro ripping and it jolting deeper. your brain will rush good chemicals to your brain when you're hurt, and when its visually pleasing and emotionally relieving i cant help but enjoy it so much
sometimes i SH in other ways, usually bruising, and thats mainly used for self punishment and emotional regulation, as the pain from swelling lasts a few days and is kinda also grounding, if my brain is thinking too much i'll push into the bruise, or hit it again. cutting has been self punishment in the past too, but once i started enjoying more of it i got hooked and even when emotions were alright i'll give in because it felt good in a fucked up way
No stranger ever came up to me and asked. And the kids I've personally known, the mom said they were tattoos 
