I have self harmed in so many different ways throughout the years. I began by banging my head repeatedly on a wall when I was maybe in 3rd grade. That lasted until 7th grade when I figured out that if I scratch my forearms until they’re raw and hold my finger over the still raw wound it would make me feel something other than the constant anxiety. I continued to scratch until 11th grade when I conjured up my courage and actually cut myself. It became an addiction and now my thighs are no longer clean. In 11th grade I also began seriously attempting suicide. […]
I smoke to forget. I drink to forget. I cut to no longer feel what it is I want to forget. I sleep to get away. I want to get away for good.
Ive always wondered if life was genuinely worth all the pain and anxiety. It seems like in order for me to live peacefully I need to inflict pain on myself and is that really a way to live? Is it worth feeling this everyday until eventually one day I die? If it’s going to happen at some point anyway then I’d hope for it to happen sooner rather than later to be honest.
I came across this site while googling what would happen when taking too many hydroxyzine or seroquel. It’s funny because after several suicide attempts I still keep trying even though I can’t bring myself to keep trying at anything else. I continue to take too many pills every night in hopes that one of these nights it will kill me but so far I’ve had no such luck. I wish I was this motivated in other aspects of my life.