I guess my post did come across as a bit guilt-trippish, and sorry if it did, that wasn't the intention. My first real relationship was with a girl who cut, and remembering the huge amount of pressure and doubt that put on me is a huge part of why I forced myself to stop when I started falling back into cutting last year. When I was going through a horrible phase and started spending a chunk of every day or two with a knife, I stopped because I decided that even if I didn't care about what I did to myself, that I'd at least hold myself together for the sake of my family.
And I know sometimes that doesn't mean much and it certainly didn't to me when I was self destructing with drugs, but in one of my more clearheaded moments I decided that if I give up on myself, then I give up on the people around me who've gone to hell and back for me, and who've always had the best intentions even if that hasn't reflected in the best actions, and that's what made me stop again. It's the reason I've always held back when I've felt suicidal, sure I just turned to the methpipe or the pills or the bottle instead and that wasn't good, but when you give up on yourself, that means all the people around you who've tried to help you have failed, and I don't think they deserve that.