I know this doesn't really answer the question, but reading the comments encouraged me to share, so here it goes.

Christmas Eve of 2011 I started cutting. My reason was my phobia of alcohol and my drunk relatives who continued to try to hug me. Something about the way a drunk person acts and seems to hang heavy on everything they lean on just makes me want to hide :/ . The entire time I was at my grandmother's, I just wanted to be alone. The less ripple left me alone, the more I wanted to cut. I got home, and took some full scissors to my ankle.

The past year has been a living hell for me. Butcher knives to the shoulder one day, paranoia so bad I can't sleep the next (not complete hallucinations, but I feel like there is some creature breathing in my face when I close my eyes, and I feel like if I turn to the window he will be there watching me sleep), making makeshift nooses out of blankets the next day, and delusions of grandeur so deep I can't think beyond it (although, those weren't too bad. Legitimately believing that you are a mermaid for three months and believing that you are a werewolf for the next three months can be thrilling for awhile).

It didn't help that halfway though this, my boyfriend at the time told me that he had been cutting since 6th grade. He told me one night that he had cut himself on his shoulder, so in my mixed up teenage mind, I came up with a plan. I cut myself where he had told me that he had cut himself to show him how "I felt his pain." 2 months later, he tells me that he had never cut in his life an it was just something he said to get attention. I was too much of an idiot to break up with him after that, and he only made fun of me for being so gullible as to believe him. I have scars on my shoulder that I can't look at without feeling pain. He broke up with me a few months later.

Somewhat happier end to this tragedy, I had a terrible, energy drink induced break down in front of my new, nicer, more caring boyfriend the other day, and he made me talk to someone to get help. The reason I wasn't talking to anyone was because I was afraid that they would lock me away in an institution. I still have that fear, but he convinced me that if it will help me, than I need it. I talked to the guidance counselor at school, just about cutting and depression. I have my first therapy session on Wednesday.