I’m gonna level with you, all of you strangers. I don’t know you but, the suicide project is our connecting element.
I want to kill myself, if only I could shut off my brain long enough to do it. I feel most comfortable when seeing my own blood seep out of my skin after cutting, or the pale sting after branding my skin. -not normal, I know- but my dad died about a decade ago and I feel the loss of him most keenly. the marks show me how long.. maybe in a few shots I’ll forget my pain. the scars from my before mentioned pain are a reminder of how weak I am.
sometimes I test how long I can stand smothering myself with a pillow… not long. too bad. the pain is too much. I feel too much. it is my curse.