Where it all began is a bit vague to me now. But I can remember being of the age of five-six-or seven when violence and fear played a major part in my life. Some of the original violence I can hardly remember at all, but what was to become a regular practice will live with me always. The violence was bad enough but; the severity was frightening. My father was a big man in size, about 6'3" tall and very well built having been a very good amateur boxer. So you can imagine the fear and pain I felt when I came under a full [no holds bared] attack from my father. How I managed to survive them physically still mystifies me today. The most trivial of incidents would give an excuse for another assault. One incident I can remember vividly, my father asked me to go up stairs to fetch his watch because he was about to go out. When I was coming down the stairs I fell and was shaken by the fall. Instead of my father coming over to comfort me he began beating me, convinced I had broken his watch. This is just one of a catalogue of incidents I could recite but for fear of depressing myself further I will refrain for now.

Needless to say 12 years or more of this kind of abuse left me with mental scars I am still trying to heal to this very day. Anxiety gave birth to nightmares, nightmares to bed-wetting, bed-wetting to beatings and so the cycle went on.

What must be emphasised at this point is that at 45 years of age, (although my father is now dead), he is still coming through the door regularly.

So to summarise, my own self-harming and my positive feedback, it is my way of averting chaos, it brings peaceful, if only temporary order, to an otherwise unbearable sate of mind. The physical healing, which follows, may symbolise the psychic healing, for which I long for.