I’m addicted to cutting.
What does this mean?
Am I labeled as emo now?
Been there.
Done that.
Will try.
But fail.
Recover.
And repeat.
You don’t know anything about me.
You don’t have the right to judge someone when you have no idea what they go through. Every. Single. Day.
Been molested, raped, bullied, punched, slapped, used, burned, cut, and beaten til blood dripped down my cheeks and elbow.
You have no right to call me a *****, whore, slut, skank, hoe, chink, etc
Every word you used on me I added a new scar on my wrist.
Been to the hospital waking up in shame wishing I wouldn’t hear another insult.
Being called an stupid dumb idiot for committing suicide. For not wanting to hear anymore hurtful words. […]
The thought occur when I was in third grade.
How many attempts I’ve made?
Lets just say I started when I was in Fourth Grade.
Every attempt, I had to suffer a big amount of pain. Surviving every false action.
At night is when thoughts unleash itself.
Small thoughts that turn into terrifying images that keep playing in your head.
Like a movie. A movie of all your mistakes, all your insecurities, and all your fears, mocking you.
You wish you could bury all those thoughts so they wont come back into your mind.
You lay there and cry. Your eyes then become worn-out from your tears. And you have that urge to pull out that razor.
As days pass, I sit in silence.
I cant remember the last time I was actually happy.
I doubt everything and everyone.
I wonder when my ending point is. All I ever wanted was to live a normal life, to be happy, simple as that. Hurting myself more and more everyday wishing today, today I will make that false move and end EVERYTHING right here at this moment.