Foreverdancing26

“It could always be worse” they say.

But in reality it couldn’t be much worse, because I am dying.

I am being swallowed by my thoughts, the cuts a mere symbol to the shooting pain in my heart.

1 pill, 2 pill, 3 pill, 4 pill, but I stay awake.

I overdose not to kill myself, but to feel something besides pure anxiety and depression.

1 cut, 2 cut, 3 cut, 4 cut there is no amount of blood that will ever be enough.

One day I will be put out of my misery, away from this hell. That day will be eventful, because also on that day I will be buried.

I’m 17 years old, and the pain I have felt isn’t even the worst I’ll ever experience. It’s sad to think I will have dozens more mental break downs, and thousands of tears will be shed. I’ve felt unbearable pain, but it hasn’t even been the worst it’ll be…

I’m not even an adult yet, and if I can’t handle the pain now imagine how bad it’ll be when I am one.. I’m not gonna be able to handle it.

My life will end voluntarily, I just know it….

Everyone has  a purpose and the world is so beautiful.

People are good and wholesome with great intensions.

I’m extremely high right now….

It’s sad what I have to do to be optimistic.

If people actually loved me like they say they do, they’d let me cut. They’d realize cutting prevents these constant breakdowns I’m having. I can’t deal with my inner turmoil without cutting. I don’t want to see anyone or do anything when I have to stop cutting. Lack of cutting is making me more depressed, sick, and anti social. I no longer care about my life or my future right now.

Usually, I cut with razors.. Today I tried a pencil sharpener blade instead. Once I began to uncontrollably bleed, I had a panic attack. I almost called 911 I was so scared. I’ll never forget the shaking, but I still couldn’t cry.. I wasn’t sorry.

10 minutes after I now realize I loved it. I can’t wait to do it again.

Today, my teacher saw my cuts at school & knew it was due to my self harm.

Now I have to tell my mom yet again or else she will

I don’t want to go back into treatment

Wish me luck…

I’m a competitive dancer, and yesterday at dance a friend of mine was really upset over boy troubles.

As she was crying, I told her things could always be worse. She asked me to prove it, so I told her to look down at my foot, full of cuts.

She asked what it was and I explained I self harm, and it is a burden far worse than boy troubles, and one I hope she never has to experience.

Self harm can help sometimes… In no way am I condoning it, but it is a very serious life lesson that things can always be worse..

Since that conversation my […]

I’m not the type of kid who needs to be hospitalized…

I don’t cut that deep, but I am still hurting. I’m that awkward medium with self harm; I do it & do it a decent amount, but I am not covered in cuts… That doesn’t mean I deserve any less attention.

Will I ever kill myself? I honestly don’t know. But that doesn’t mean things shouldn’t be done in preventing it..

I drug myself just to sleep

My heart is racing a mile a minute, I can’t stop breathing so fast.

I’m shaking

I’m crying and don’t know why

I don’t want to cut anymore, I need to.

If I don’t cut I’m going to kill myself

& I was fine 20 minutes ago, I don’t know what happened.

I come home from school and I sleep.

I sleep until its time to go to dance.

On my way home from dance I cry and cry for something new everyday.

Then I go home and sleep again.

This is the cycle of my life, sleeping and crying. It’s all I think about and all I do……

Help.

It’s funny how everyone has their little secret, the one thing they can only tell 1,2, or no people. Mine is not even the worst fact about me…

I can tell someone I’m depressed, anxious, and bipolar, but I can never tell any of my friends I’m suffering from PTSD.

I’m a 17 year old girl- not exactly the typical age to develop PTSD, but I have. On August 19th, 2012, a man came into my job and robbed me at knife point. I can see that knife in my mind, the picture is so specifically embedded into my mind. The robbery was very low key, and […]

I’ve made  the decision to stop seeing my therapist, and stop receiving my anxiety medication. Since then it’s been a roller coaster, but the lack of doctors appointments has de-stressed me, and I have more time to do fun things that make me happier than therapy or medication ever did. The problem I have is- I didn’t tell my mom. I drive myself, so she knows very little about my appointments. Once the bills stop coming, she is likely to ask questions. I’m very uncomfortable talking to my mom, she thinks I tend to make irrational decisions..

I’m not sure if I should just tell her […]

Some people on this site are the biggest assholes. Sorry, but it’s true. They have no compassion for feelings. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve received a comment along the lines of “attention seeker” & maybe I shouldn’t be posting on this site if I wasn’t expecting that, but sometimes when I rant and rave all I want is for people to say they care, I don’t need hateful comments..

Sorry, I’m just very annoyed with some people undermining mental disorder -__-

People honestly think I choose to be like this, they think I choose to feel this way. “Just stop and be confident” they say, but they don’t understand how hard it is. People honestly think I choose to feel so horrible about myself that I cut.

I don’t say I can’t do things for attention, I say I can’t because I don’t want to be embarrassed in an attempt to do it, and I don’t want to have high expectations and let myself or anyone else down.

I wouldn’t subject myself to self mutilation if I honestly believed in myself.. -__-