I was 13 when I first started self harming. Every day was the same. Arguments, fall-outs and loneliness, I just couldn't take the stress anymore, so I cut my wrists.
If it wasn't enough that my parents were constantly fighting, sometimes violently, and all my friends seemed to be ditching me for their boyfriends, I was helplessly, hopelessly in love. I'd been hurt so many times by this person. After all, they told me that they loved me too, but kept hurting me anyway, and I didn't understand why.
It got to the point that I just stopped eating and cut deeper into my wrists and daily and I burned myself on purpose. Finally I couldn't really see much point in living any more. I prepared a suicide note and chose the highest building I could jump off of and die.
I decided to go through one more day of school before taking my life, when someone asked me what was wrong, and I don't know how, but I told them everything. They helped me find things to take my mind off of suicide and convinced me that, yes, there must be something to live for even if I didn't know what it was yet.
Now, I can't remember the last time I hurt myself on purpose, and I eat like a normal person too.
My advice would be to just tell somebody. Get it all off your chest - it's the best thing you could ever do for yourself. It saves you.