I've always found it strange when people call self harm 'addictive'. I have scars from a decade ago and plasters less than a week old. Yet I could never have truthfully told you I was addicted. I've had periods when I do it every day for weeks, followed by literally years of abstinence, when I've barely considered it at all.
As far as I can remember, I've done it mainly to escape feelings of 'emptiness'... I'm sure I don't have explain that on a post entitled cutting. But I've also done it because I despised myself, because I was drunk and simply desired the rush, or, as the very first time, simply to see if I could. I don't believe I've ever done it through anger, this being something, to be honest, that I've never actually experienced. Life keeps ticking by and still I can do nothing but sit and listen to the ticks echoing away... Twenty-one years old, and I have no ideas, no clue as to what I should do. I've travelled to different continents, I've written and read, I've worked in every area, tried every adrenaline sport, sampled every substance mentioned here, and nothing has ever caught my interest. Hell, I fucking wish that self harm was addictive, it would break up the fucking monotany. But no, it's just another meaningless activity, overrated and undertried.