Relapsed

This

Once I secure a way of k!lling myself I'm doing it. I can't take it anymore. I'm never a priority for anyone. I'm always expected to take care of everyone else's problems in my family and they never even try to help with mine. I have one friend and I feel like even he doesn't truly care how I feel. I have no one. I'm alone, like I've always been. I have no one to help me and I'm drowning. Hopefully I can just sl!t my wrists and be done with everything. It's not like I have anyone who truly cares about me anyway. I won't be missed, let alone remembered and that's somehow a comforting thought.

This

I envy the hero’s who weren’t a coward and took their own life. I hope to make that list one day… 

I literally crave intimacy. Just physical contact my guy. One good honest hug. A kiss perhaps. To hold a fucking hand

“No one has realized how unhappy I am…they haven’t noticed the dark inside my eyes”

- the suicide effect

It’s so hard healing and staying clean when my scars just work as a constant reminder of what I used to do and still have the urge to do. I look down and see those lines going up and down my arms and I’m just reminded of the feelings that accompanied them. The hopelessness, sadness, and pain that lead me to do it, and the release that came when I made them. I still feel that hopelessness and sadness a decade later, it never goes away, and the urge to self harm always comes back like a demon I can’t get rid of. I’ve gotten much better at suppressing the urge to do it as I’ve gotten older and gained more coping mechanisms, but it refuses to go away completely.

It’s not even just the reminder of the urge that sucks. I feel so much shame when I look at them; I feel like if people see my arms then they just see me as broken or damaged goods. I absolutely cannot stand the looks of pity or faux concern or- god forbid the look of disgust- when someone looks at my scars before my face. It really doesn’t help when my coworker tells me about his latest dating escapades and always brings up his current partner’s scars offhand like it’s an issue or a concern he needs to be wary of. It makes me wonder if he knows, if he’s seen my scars. He’s had to at some point, I’ve worn short sleeves to work before but not often. But he’s had to have seen. That makes me wonder then if he’s trying to get me to say something about it. I don’t know what exactly, but the whole situation leaves a bad taste in my mouth and further fuels my feelings of shame.

The stigma surrounding self harm is still extremely prevalent and does nothing to help those who may be struggling with it. Until we are able to discuss our past or current struggles without fear of rejection or shame from those around us, these conversations will be far and few between, and there will be less people who are able to seek healing.

Weil es mich fühlen lässt

I’m such. A fucking. Failure.

I just want to be beautiful

Reblog if your SICK of these things:

FAT thighs

FAT stomach

FAT arms

FAT face

FAT hands

FAT calves

FAT knees

FAT hips

FAT EVERYTHING. 

I just want to be skinny…