“I Want Someone To See The Dark Parts Of My Mind. The Messy, The Scary, The Destructive Parts And Still

My body

This is my body.

All mine.

From the soles of my feet to the crown of my head

I own this.

And I can do, whatever I want with it

I can feed it, or starve it

I can nurture it, or let it waste away

I can hurt it, or protect it.

I struggle with that, I know which is the right choice, but sometimes I fail to make it. That is my burden to carry.

My choices will have consequences,

the scars may fade, but they will always be there,

on my body.

In the past, people have tried to take it from me,

claim it for their own.

grab it

use it

control it

But I will not allow that again.

No one will take my body from me.

Not again.

And if they try,

I’ll cut off their fingers, so they cannot grab me

their arms, so they cannot hold me

their legs, so they cannot chase after me

and their tongue, so that not even their words can touch me.

My body.

In the future, I may choose to offer my body to others

but I will do so with the knowledge that it is mine to give and refuse

that while I may let them touch it, it will always be mine.

This is my body.

I can do, whatever I want with it.

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

Me

My mom: how can you still be tired?! You slept all day!

Me: *is not actually physically tired, just really tired of reality and living so I use sleep as an alternative to death*

Does anybody know the app name?

I'm over 3 months "clean" but, in Valen's name it's been difficult.

This.

Never enough discipline. I never have myself under enough discipline to achieve what I want to achieve. 

I know I’m sick. I know I’m ‘fucked up in the head’. I know what is good for me and what is bad for me. 

At the exact same time, I don’t care. 

I don’t want to be healthy. I don’t want a perfect relationship. I don’t mind the hurting, the aching, the low expectations, the hunger, the hurt. I don’t mind it because it’s all I’ve ever known. 

It counts as self harm. If you scratch yourself on purpose but its only a red bulge it still counts as sled harm.

When I’m anxious I chew the skin on my fingers, sometimes it bleeds, sometimes it bleeds a lot. I can never quite figure out if it counts or not

TW really deep dark thoughts..

I want to recover… but I’m too scared. I want to eat… but I’m too scared. I want to live… but I’m too scared. I’m just too scared of the thought of gaining weight. Of showing myself out there in the world. I want to hide. I want to silently vanish away somehow.. yet I know that that isn’t possible. I’m in a constant fight in my own brain. As if there’s a own dark world in there where there’s pure chaos but also pure silence. Its like a dark neighbourhood at night and i walk through it but it’s so mf silent but it’s that scary type of silence where you know the next second something’s gonna happen. That terrifying type of silence. Where you don’t get a single second to breathe and relax. Always on the run. As if there’s something constantly behind you hunting you. THATS my brain.. I’m not living unless I feel.. pain. I’ve been in a constant numb mode where I just can’t cry. Even if I try and want to. I can’t. Fucking. Cry. When all I want is to have a good cry to let it all out. Instead, it develops into anger against myself and that’s when selfharm and starvation happily Hand in hand enter and punish me. For what? Existing???? What is this bullshit… I’m getting to a point where I don’t think I will ever be able to recover. I want to… but I’m just too… scared. Because all these dark thoughts are so damn familiar and in a way comforting bc it’s all I know. I wish I could experience the good. The happiness. The warmth and light so I can find comfort in there instead..

hey, you

yes you

listen to me

you are worth it

you’re worth all the effort someone may have to put in

you’re worth the doctors visits and the copays

you’re worth late night phone calls and hugs when you fall apart

you’re worth whatever it takes

you’re worthy of life

i know you probably won’t believe me

but i swear to you it’s true

i love you

please please message me if you need anything

it doesn’t have to be me but reach out

someone can help

there’s always someone willing to help

and you deserve it

Me: I don’t give a fuck

Also Me: *gives way to many fucks*

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.