I am afraid of harm.
I have grown wise about harm.
But I just found that when I perform it, the crippling pain leaves in a way and for a time while my wound remains.
I am scared of myself now.
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Last year, I started suffering from depression.
Last week, I started cutting.
Last day, I cried and told myself how ugly the wounds look.
I’m not used to seeing my left wrist so jagged and so scarred.
Is it normal to love and hate cutting both at the same time?
To love and to hate. Two contradicting things I always seem to clash together.
Opened this website today after 3 years. Seems like a pretty long time. Reading the post I had posted back then, a lot has changed.
I was depressed back then, I am depressed now. In fact, more than depressed. But the thing that has changed is, I got used to it. It’s mine. I keep it close to my heart. I go out with friends, enjoy, play, drink. learn stuff and all the things that a normal person does, almost all the things. I have got to a point where I don’t have connections with people. Even in company, I am always aloof. I can’t find […]
Our eyes met,
and for some reason I just couldn’t resist you,
I fell fast and so did you.
But then the sweet words you called me turned sour,
the touching wasn’t so gentle anymore,
you left bruises and scars,
but somehow it felt better to go through this pain with you,
I never believed in God,
but I started praying for death,
hoping some greater power could take me out of this misery.
Your mean words became my reality,
and my bruises you left on my body never healed,
they were permanent.
I left you, with swollen eyes and a heavy heart,
never knowing if I would find someone that would make me so miserably happy.
A few months ago I posted a story about my best friend who was close to the edge and how I desperately wanted to stop him doing the wrong thing because he just had so much to live for.Â Well aÂ lot of time has passed and he is still alive, I actually managed to stop him – but in doing so I put all of myself into what I can only crudely refer to as a mission and IÂ know now that I lost myself. I learnt toÂ think like a suicidal person, seeing theÂ triggers, the pain, the hurt, the desire to end the pain – mostly because […]
So the other day I was thinking about hanging it up and calling it quits, my life is complicated. I’m young but I feel like I lived life before if that makes sense? But anyway tied the belt around my neck and put it in a knot twice and was about to hang it up in my room, I tested it to see if it would hold my weight it did, and just as soon as I was about to give it another try my cat wonders in my room and starts purring and I put the belt down and started playing with my cat […]
I tried partial suspension hanging today almost fainted could see floaters( white spots near my eyes) but the rope was long and my feet touched the ground panicked and struggled to remove the noose but succeeded to remove the noose will tryÂ with the shorter rope today night when every one is asleep. Here is a brilliant site explaining partial suspension hanging
Now with a scar on my neck will definitely kill myselfÂ before this weekend
Hi I’m a 13 y/o girl from Sweden that at the moment feel like shit.. My whole life has been hard and so on but now I just want to die. My brother is the main problem, he hits me sometimes but not hard or anything, it the words he says. My whole life he’s been there to tell me that i will fail, I’m nothing, useless. Now those words are the truth in my eyes. He scares the living hell out of me, when he gets mad (and that is pretty much every day) I usually run to the bathroom. Then I will sit […]
So how many of you have gotten hate mail before? I bet a lot of you have and, let me tell you now, it isn’t fun right?
Honestly, I like getting hate mail because it shows how many judgmental sons of bitches are in this goddamn world. I’ve been told that my scars from self-harm/cutting were FAKE.
Seriously?! Do my fucking scars really look fake? What do I do, spend hours in front of the mirror drawing every single scar on my wrist, stomach, chest, shoulders, arms, thighs, legs, and ankles? I spend ten hours making sure each scar is there and then I cover it up […]
As i lay i count the amount of scars on my body. My broken cut ridden scarred body…
I start counting, and only count what is still visible after months to years of time for the wounds to heal. My scars all have a story of their own, and all signify a problem, feeling of hopelessness and lost cause, emotionless, a perfect day in hiding.
I count 10…54…71… 84 well that’s it for those that are visible in my shorts and cut off T-shirt. Most of them aren’t visible and overlap so it’s impossible to get an accurate count of them the ones that i have […]
four months, down the drain. i want to get a tattoo when i am older, one that looks like the red scratch on my hand at the base of my thumb. i have tried to tell myself that it doesent count, but i know that it does. i know that after four months i have hurt myself again, but to be honest i dont care. everything was just building up inside of me and everytime i look at the cut i am not angry or sad. i am strangely happy or proud. i dont know why. this cut right now means so much […]
that’s what needs to happen
that’s what i need to do.
but the problem isn’t knowing that
i know it all right
i know perfectly fine that’s what i have to do
it’s just i’m not strong
never have been strong.
i’m not strong enough to stop
because i need the pain so much
i need the anchor to the earth
that i can’t give it up now.
i don’t know if i would call this an
but maybe that’s what it is.
how should i know?
why should i know?
and sometimes i just want to be
wiped out of existing forever because you know my existence is
i am so […]
i’ve been down since forever and this spring i’ve had enough. I feel trapped inside my heavy body and canÂ¨t wait to get out. i avoid social situations but my BF has many friends and sometimes they come to our place. I mostly hide in my bedroom and he’s ashamed. But I can’t stand social situations. I start crying. Everyone’s looking weird at me and I’ve lost them forever, I will always be the weird chick that started crying. I hate it when my bf says i don’t try hard enough and that he’s ashamed of me. My dad used to tell me […]
Every dayÂ I wake up wishing that I hadn’t.
I’m always tired.Â That fatigue I feel cannot be cured by aÂ good nights sleep or a nap. Sometimes I feel that it will only ever truly be satisfied by death. Does anyone know what that’s like?
To wake up every morning sick to your stomach because you’re alive?
But-I try to bribe myself out of bed. I know that I have to keep myself busy-constantly run my brain because if I stop-those thoughts will catch up with me. I desperately try to find solace in the world. Feel the warmth of the sun, watch funny YouTube videos, draw…Â but it’s like trying […]
Last night, someone pointed out all my flaws. She told me about how I’m a burden to others. She gave reasons as to why it would be better if I was gone. She opposed all my life decisions. I know she has no right to tell me I’m living my life incorrectly, but I was taught to respect and listen to the thoughts of my elders.
She persuaded me to believe her. And I did.
I asked her to buy me pills so I could end my selfish activities. Instead, she called me stupid, selfish, and so many other words just because I insisted.
She then […]
A close friend of mine did something similar to this on his page so I decided to try it too. The difference is I guess my suicidal thoughts and low self esteem started long before online friends or dating.
I grew up in a family of eight plus. We did foster care for two kids so there was sometimes an extra girl in the house. I was always biologically the oldest though. If you’ve grown up in a big family, then you probably understand where I’m coming from when I say it’s like survival of the fittest. And when the three oldest siblings are you […]
I have wounds on my body that won’t heal.
I have thoughts raging in my mind that won’t be silenced.
to find the place in which I know I belong.
Living in a house with no one to come home to.
that my life has meaning thatÂ I won’t discover.
I don’t share your thoughts, your opinions, or your ideas.
to end it all and move on to another world.
by the thoughts and the screams thatÂ I hide with a smile.
Because these scars are only skin deep.
to love myself and allow others to love […]
One year of self-harm.
One year of cuts.
21 january 2012.
The day I started cutting.
Cutting on my hands.
Cutting on my feet.
Cutting on my hips.
Cutting on my belly.
Cutting on my lower arms.
Cutting on my wrists.
Cutting on my chest.
I can remember that day as yesterday. Saturday 21 january 2012. I grabbed a scissors and started to scrape and scrape on my hand until there was a little scar with a very little bit of blood. I did it, couldn’t go back. Well, it doesn’t matter, right? It was just […]
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