If you'd have told me two years ago that I was going to become a self-harmer, I'd have laughed at you.

"Why would anyone want to hurt themselves on purpose?" I'd have asked. "How can pain make a person feel better?"

But that was before I became addicted to self-harm.

It started when an older girl, Ruth, showed me something at school that changed my life forever.

She was wearing these really cool red leather gloves, I asked her where they were from, but instead of telling me she showed me something terrifying.

"Loads of us do it," she whispered

She took off the gloves and showed me her knuckles. They were bleeding and covered in tiny cuts. "Oh my God, are you OK?" I asked her. "How did that happen?"

"I did it to myself," she whispered. "Loads of us do it, it helps when we get stressed, it makes things feel better."

Then she showed us all the razors she carried around. We were all talking about it for ages afterwards. I have to say, I thought she was stupid.

A few months later in December I cut my knuckles. I honestly can't tell you why I did it. I don't remember but I do remember feeling really down around that time.

My mum noticed them, so I said I'd scraped them on a wall by accident. She believed me, I mean why wouldn't she? Why would someone have deliberately cut their knuckles? Even then I could see that it didn't make much sense.

It was so painful, it was like a throbing, roaring pain. I could sort of hear it in my ears. There was something about it that was weirdly comforting though as well.

I started to cut myself regularly

I'd wear gloves in bed and at school. I wore them tight to try to stop the pain. I started to cut myself regularly. My friends noticed but I told them I'd scraped them on a wall by accident aswell. They also believed me.

I only told one of my friends, I hadn't known her long but she'd also cut herself before and told me about it. I trusted her not to tell anyone what I was doing. I think back now and I can't believe how much I put her through.

I kept a diary as well, I wrote everything down. I kept my diary in a shoebox with a razor in it. Things just felt like they kept going wrong all the time. It was comforting to know that the razor was close by. I started carrying it to school as well. It made me feel safe.

Everyone else seemed to be doing it...

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I started to tell more people, I wasn't purposefully looking for attention but some people thought I was.

They all supported me but then everything started to go wrong... Just like I'd copied Ruth, people started copying me.

I couldn't believe it when I saw my friends' knuckles. Nearly everybody I'd told had done it once or more! I felt terrible.

I heard more people in other years had done it. I didn't know if rumours had got around about me or if loads of people were already doing it anyway. I felt so guilty but I couldn't stop.

My teacher told everyone what I had done

Then one day one of my teachers noticed and guessed what I'd done. She basically told the whole class!

That night I just kept going over and over my knuckles... They were black and disgusting! Soon I started scratching my wrists and arm with needles instead. They didn't bleed but I felt pain, which was what I wanted.

One night I even tried to slit my wrists but it didn't work - deep down I think I really didn't want it to.

Things were getting out of hand. My mum found my shoebox (with my diaries and the razor) she didn't tell me for days but eventually she did. She was so angry and upset. I promised to stop - but I didn't.

I found things difficult at home with arguments and how much time I had to spend alone. I needed a way to hurt myself without showing it. I heard someone had used a razor to slit their wrists. I stayed at my nan's one night and did it, just really lightly so it bled a bit but not too much.

My scars were horrible and I wore my jumpers all the time. When swimming started at school I forged notes so people wouldn't see my arms.

I could tell my friends were starting to lose patience with me. Some of them were still cutting, but I was over the edge. One close friend told me she didn't want to know me anymore. "I can't sit back and wait for you to die," she said.

"I can't sit back and wait for you to die...

She decided to tell a teacher. I was so scared but I soon realised I shouldn't have been. Me and the teacher talked and I felt better talking to someone.

She sent a letter to my mum and dad telling them about everything and advised them to get me a counsellor. It took months for me to get an appointment but I did go, and it really helped.

I can honestly say I'm better. I'm depressed about my weight and have bad days sometimes but I've learnt there's so much more to life than harming myself. I still keep a diary and write down everything that's wrong but I'm a lot happier than I was.

Please! If your ever ever think of self harming yourself. DON'T! If you're upset talk to someone. Harming yourself makes you feel SO much worse and I feel so stupid about what I did. A friend of mine tried to kill themselves a while ago and it really made me upset.

Your hurting more than yourself! I just want everyone to be happy! Please!

If you're self-harming, or you know someone who does, try the National Self Harm Network or selfharm.org.uk for more help and info.

Watch a video about a person living with self harm Video Nation - Self Harm

Read our Self-Harm factfile