Can Anyone Help Me?

Okay, so I'm 23 years old, and have been cutting since I was seven. I have also gone as far as to try to commit suicide. (by more than just cutting) I don't like that I feel that this is the only way I can cope. But it seems to be the only thing that makes me feel better. I also suffer from Bulimia, Anorexia, and Alcoholism. But back to the cutting...I cut because I need to know I'm alive, I cut because I need that control, I cut because I have to, I am the mother of a 2 year old little boy. In the beginning when I started cutting it was because I wanted to, and now everyone compares it to an addiction, for a while I thought I had control over it, but soon it was controlling me...
I wake up in the morning and it's like being wrapped up in saran wrap, and as the day goes on it get's pulled tighter and tighter, and the longer I wait it's like I have to cut it free. It started off when I was about 7 or 8, I've been cutting for 15 or 16 years. That's more than half my life. I actually cut last night. I don't cut every day but close to it. It used to be a once a month thing, then a once a week thing, and now it's almost an every day thing if not twice a day. It's not usually a question of will I or wont I, it's more a question of where, and how deep, or how big of an area. I don't even really hide it anymore. I usually use alcohol to sterilize the razor blade and tissue to wipe the blood up with. I can control how much I bleed. I can control how deep I go. I cut to feel... It's a release... It's like a deep breath... I remember my first time cutting, and it was pretty deep for a first time, but I remember feeling relieved after I did it, but also scared that I would get caught. I remember thinking to myself, that this was a good idea and I should keep doing it because it didn't hurt, it actually felt good. It just clicked with me. I grew up in a horrible home.
I was raped and molested my entire childhood.
But were not here to talk about that. I had eating disorders growing up, and did some drugs, and was smoking, and it was like no body cared. No one ever asked; 'did you eat today?' or 'how are you feeling'.
My biggest fear is being found out by people I don't know. I'm afraid of being committed again. I've been in 3 mental hospitals and not one of them really helped me. All they wanted to do was drug me and send me on my way. I'm also afraid that if DHS knew what I was doing they would take my son away from me, and I couldn't bear the thought of that happening. He's my world. And I know he see's me in pain, but he never sees the marks. It's constant hiding for me, and I think that's why I'm still doing it. It's because I realize that scars are going to be there forever.
I can't go to the beach and enjoy a day in my bathing suit because of the scars. The scars aren't going to go away so I might as well add more, because it's working for me... With guys or girls I have to get to the point with them that I can trust them not to be freaked out, or guys that would rather have sex than talk about it.
Everything in my past made me who I am today. So I don't regret stuff. My life is getting so far down the road of self mutilation that it's either get help or die.
And I don't want to die without a fight... So I'm fighting. Some days are good days, and some days are not so good. Everyday is a new day to keep on moving forward one moment at a time. My life accessory is: Outer scars reflect inner pain. I cry my tears of red they help me breathe... So ashamed... If you know anything about me you'll know that I love nature and I love the color green. Those are my healthiest obsessions. I don't do well with emotions. I don't cry. I think, I cry tears of red (blood) because I cannot cry real tears without more physical pain that with cutting. When I am sharing my compulsions I will often smile or laugh. It's sick, but it's true. If I cut on one side of my thigh, or arm, or breast, I have to do the same on the other, it has to be even. Sometimes I can be really good and only cut like 2 or 4 times, but then there are others when I cut like between 12-26 times. Just over and over, in the same spot. I have to stare at it for a few minutes before I wipe off the blood. It makes me feel better to watch it run down my arm or leg or breast. Just as long as it's deep enough to know by tomorrow to. Because once it starts to heal, I have to do it again. Doing it takes the hurt out of me. I always thought it was a phase that I would eventually grow out of, but I never did. I disgust myself, how I've permanently damaged myself, and yet I keep doing it. It's like I get lost in this vortex when I'm cutting. I forget EVERYTHING.
My friends. My homework. My family. My stress...Here's my problem... I don't want to die...But I don't want to live... And in the few moments that I do want to live, I hate the way I'm doing it. I want to either get better, or be gone... What do I do...?

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