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  1. Sparrowspeak's Blog

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    You know that feeling? When you’ve GOT to do SOMETHING, but there is nothing you can do, no way out, and you’re not strong enough to use simple force? When someone can stand over you and do whatever they want and you can’t do anything but yell and cry? And then that someone rubs your face in it.

    I’ve never been so furious. I got away and I just screamed and smashed things and it WASN’T ENOUGH. Nothing, none of it was enough, it didn’t soothe, it didn’t distract, and it sure as hell didn’t drain the awful pressure inside. Then I had this idea, see, a way to divert my attention and energy and regain some control.

    And that’s how self harm became my solution for everything. Feeling deppressed, angry, lost, suicidal? All of that can just be gone in a matter of minutes.

    I have yet to find anything that works so well, everything else - it just doesn’t come close. I’m working on it.

     

     

  2. the guy that nobody knows's Blog

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    if there’s anyone out there (prefferably a teenage girl as I get along better with them don’t Worry I’m not a creeper or a freak) I could really use someone to talk to to help get over my ex, I could try to help with something with you too but idk if I’ll be a big help. Feel free to text me at 760-445-2639

  3. tryingnottodie's Blog

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    started in my 11 years. I was buzzing over the girl ‘s college where I was studying . d called me everything , absolutely everything  I had ” friends” who did not absolutely nothing … everyone saw oq people did with me but nobody had this notion of bulling even then no one fought or done anything . I made my first cut of the day 10/2½010 ‘ll never forget that date . was in the area of my bladder near the leg , a place where I knew no one would see. it hurt a lot. it hurt so much that I cut myself again when d healed , some three days after … My scarring is fast equal to my mother. and was thus cut , healed , cut again. until I moved . I got there with the thought that ‘d never do that , and I did. I was not cut me for 2 years  there I actually found people who cared about me … real friends , I knew I would have the rest of my life. exactly on 12/14/2012 I came to conclusion q would end up cutting myself again. I was darker , more closed . did not want to talk to nobody , absolutely nobody . I was trying to put the anger at myself out. Why the rage  the simple fact that I was not judged by what I am for 2 years and ended up judging myself . before , called me fat , stupid , dumb , bitch etc … I moved to where no one judged me , it was strange to get used to at first but I adapted . when I came back , everything came back . the depression , the trials , all … but when I say “trial ” I do not mean me but people , myself . I started judging ME . I was not enough , in my vision . not in others. nobody said anything … then I came to the conclusion that I should do it. was when … on 05/02/2013 I made my first cut on the wrist . without any reason … only a cut. I thought this strange new universe . I was the outsider here . I think that was the reason the first cut on the wrist . was in the vein , but not bled for not being thorough . Every week more I did a cut , each for a reason . every time I looked in the mirror was a new trial , ” you ‘re fat ” , a cut , ” you ‘re ugly ” , another cut … and so on . I asked for help , but only stand it for 2 weeks . I went back to cut , the cuts were deeper , more visible . I went down the street and bought a black bracelet , large enough to cover the cuts . came the evidence of the second quarter and I managed to push myself alone , what was practically nothing , so I went to my ankle and did a cut for each bass note that I took .. my mother found out, she saw the cuts on the leg and I tried to talk my parents and why I did it. not explained to them ‘cause they would not understand. I went back to cut wrists until the day arrived 6/29/2013 . perhaps one of the most traumatic days of my life . was when all the judgments that I was doing myself confirmed. I was fat, ugly and stupid . had the worst score of the quarter , no more came on my dummy and pimples began to appear like popcorn in my face . I hid in the room and at 3:30 am I woke up , I grabbed the knife and made 7 deep cuts on my wrists and vertical .. are still visible  not managed to hide these from my mother for leaving bloodstains on the floor and not the bracelet covered in full. she put me in psychiatrist, was the months of July and half of August . I was this whole time without getting cut . but when I stopped going … so put up one week. cut myself again. and then again, and again … and so this going . I am at war with myself .

    I’m from Brazil . I’m 14 . I do not want more help . I will die like this .

  4. littlemiss9's Blog

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    Who knew? Who knew, that I, *insert name here* would join the group of young adults that engage in harmful activities voluntarily?

    Obviously I didn’t. How was I supposed to know that I would get so sad and angry that the only way I’d ever begin to feel better was by cutting my thighs at two o’clock in the morning, sobbing quietly so as not to wake my mother? There is no preperation that can be taken before you suddenly find a shard of a broken mirror in your hand and dragging against your skin to try, try to release some of the angst that has built up inside.

    My first time came out of the blue. Some people may plans or have thoughts about it before they actually commit the deed. But I didn’t. It never crossed my mind until I lay in my bed that night, crying so uncontrollably for some unknown reason, unable to put a dent in the anger and sadness that had been building inside of me for the better part of three years. I have always been an explosive and volatile person when it comes to my temper and emotion because I let everything build up inside of me until I couldn’t contain it. Yes, I know that this is not a reasonable way to deal with my emotions. My emotions have always been very easily swayed. Whether by music, situations going on around me, or even just reading a book, for some reason I always take on that emotion. In some ways I don’t see a problem with it because it allows me to relate and sympathize easier. But it doesn’t always help when I’ve been bottling things up for so long that I’m close to blowing my top.

    That night, I just felt like everything that I did was stupid, annoying…wrong. Everything about me is wrong, I thought to myself. My pillow was wet with tears and my eyes felt so heavy from all of the tears that had fallen out of them. But I couldn’t sleep. There was no way getting past that pain in my chest. The same pain that I felt when I lost my grandmother. Grief. Agony and grief that had no reason to be pushing against my ribcage and clouding my brain.

    And heart wrenching, crippling sadness. I sat up and turned on my lamp, unable to sit in the darkness any longer. It just reminded me of how dark and empty I felt. And then a flash caught my eye.

    It was a mirror shard, sitting on my dresser. I had broken a mirror months earlier, and set the piece on my dresser so I wouldn’t step on it. So I picked it up. It caught my reflection and what I saw made me cry even harder. My eyes red, brimming and leaking tears. My skin stretched tightly over my cheekbones, red and tear stained. But the worst part was seeing the one person I thought was so strong, so full of life and happiness and pride, had been hiding behind a mask. And I didn’t know how to accept that. So I turned the broken piece over and over in my hands until I pricked my finger with the sharp edge.

    And it occurred to me, that the people who felt the same agony found some sort of way to…to cope I guess you could say. My heart beat a little faster at the thought of harming myself. Where would it get me? Nowhere, I resolved as I set the shard back down. And then picked it back up. How could cutting myself make this any worse, I thought bitterly. My lips thinned out to a small and hard line as I put the piece of mirror to my right thigh. One cut. That was all I’d do.

    I ended up with 22. Each one welled with crimson blood and some of the sadness seeped out along with it. But I cried harder and harder with each cut. And I thought to myself, how is this making anything better? All I’ve got now is scars that will remind me of my stupidity and sadness.

    But I did feel different. Lighter. Emptier. So after the blood dried, I set the shard down and rocked back and forth for God knows how long. Then I proceeded to lay down and fall asleep.

    And the next few weeks were better. My cuts healed without scarring my skin and I thought I was fine.

    But I’m not. I can feel the same dangerous and ugly emotions rearing their ugly heads and I know it’s not soon before I start my another round. Because there’s nothing that will help. I’ve seen all of the top doctors and tried all of drugs they’ll let a pubescent and hormonal 16 year old try. And after getting so sick of being a drugged zombie I faked being better so I could at least function. But I don’t see how I can’t function without the cutting. Because I can’t go back to sitting in the dark and crying because there’s nothing that will fix this.

    After cutting, I’ll wipe my tears and fix my makeup. I’ll put a smile on my face and be better.

    And for a while, everything will be better. But not forever.

     

  5. llamahelp's Blog

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    Teach me how to love myself

    Teach me how to love others

    Teach me how to be a friend

    Teach me how to listen well

    Teach me, i’m our puppet

  6. Zeodary's Blog

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    Latest Entry
    A rubber-band
    Held in my hand 
    Please understand 
    My pain demand
    
    Red paint so grand
    Canvas too bland
    But can I stand
    Another brand?
    
    Dear rubber band
    Yellowy-tanned
    Keep me safe so
    All goes as planned.
  7. Latest Entry
    Today I stand vacant victory, a failure upon my name and ashamed for those who cheered. Today darkness takes hold and its captain sirs are the helm. Today another sin and old lessons etched return as reminder of failure. Today I restart my trial at day 1. Ten weeks of victory shattered in a single moment of darkness, alone and afraid.

    http://aghostdancer.wordpress.com/2013/11/05/knocked-down/[/embed]

     

    Knocked down,

    By my own choosing yet not my hand it invades me only to find itself rid from its host in the end. Memories of shadows past dancing in the here and now. Suffering the shades of time as daylight brings new dawn to clarity. With regret in hand the day once more begins in ways too familiar by now. Rest uneasy comes at a price yet known but soon discovered.

     
    Sleep a meager dream its own fashion. Hours pass without notice and restless exhaustion brings little relief. For now it’s relief no matter how brief it should be appreciated for what it is and embraced for its momentary acquittal. May it stay my sentence however brief and allow lethargies oblivion.

     
    Former possessions only wish is repossession of that which I do not own. That which was left me long since forgotten by those who abandoned it deep within. Waking moments fill my nights and slumber but a dream of fleeting time.

     
    Free I set them free and today stand lost to ten weeks struggle. My best effort so far. Why? I wish I knew such answer. If I knew it could be fixed and yet I stand broken again. Pain released and from within shadows howl and blood is spilled, once more they are free.

     
    Today another sin and old wounds open to free by blood and repeat lessons placed out of mind. Victory once more charged to the hands of shadow and with it the the tide of previous victory erased. It’s to strong and in the end I’m to weak.

    I shake now in darkness and pain returns to claim broken spirit. Alone, where does one go from defeat, where do I go. From the ground seeking answer to such swift defeat, it seems yesterday I stood invincible.

    What matters when darkness has control? Retreat has been sounded. I guess we regroup and seek the higher ground and prepare for the return and perhaps know the taste of victory once more. The pull so strong and relentless it seems victory is out of reach.

    Is victory possible when god himself pisses upon you from on high? Be done with me, my desire for war is at end and should surrender be my only course to peace then so be it.

    All who cheered do so in vane and the support squandered. The wolf lay wounded and alone a failure to her pack. Shame is upon me and darkness takes the helm. Today another sin.

    ~Michelle Styles, November 4, 2013

     

  8. mariiqus's Blog

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    i have a problem with cutting and loving to think about death i hate it so much i keep telling myself that i dont need to cut but when i see knifes when i look at my arms and see that my scars are fading away i hate it so much i hate that my scars are going away they have been there for so long they have become apart of me apart of who i am and i dont want them to go away so when i see that my scars are fading i want to start cutting again and i do i cut even tho i shouldnt i know its bad but no one understands they way i feel and i have a boyfriend who wants to be there for me i just dont understand why i always second guess to way he loves me why he even wants to be with me cause there is times i hate even looking at myself sometimes i can barley get myself out of bed and its sad i used to be sad i hope that one day i can be happy again i am trying but i just hope that one day i would i wont feel the need to cut anymore and i will feel okwy when my scars finally fade away. 

  9. xxGuardianAngelxx's Blog

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    It is now as I sit and write this that I continue to ponder over five short words. In death we truly live…. what exactly is the meaning of this and how can different people with different perspectives interprate it? This is a quote that truly perplexes me  Thoughts on this…?

  10. Pink_Red's Blog

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    with my job, I need to know if I say I feel like cutting, I can’t have someone turning me in

     

  11. Lost_this_war_again's Blog

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    Well this is my first blog yay! ^.^ well in this blog all I am going to do is talk about my feelings okaii . So if you guys hate on them it’s okaii I love haters cause when people hate on me I just cut . And I feel so alive cause I havey demons to thank. They just tell me how they love my blood so yea. Plus they protect me evil or nice so pretty much living things. I don’t believe in god or satain .

     

  12. FytesGrasp's Blog

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    I’ve been thinking of posting a blog on here for a few days now… I keep on imagining what I’m going to type, what I’m going to say, and what I want people to walk away thinking- but all of that’s eluded me now. 

    I’m a senior in an Alternative High School, I dye my hair strange colors, I wear dark clothes, bracelets, and hoodies. 

    Everyone thinks I’m depressed because of my black apparel- most think I’m just goth.

    It irritates me how little they try to understand… 

    I wear black/dark clothing for the simple fact that it makes me feel like I’m not here. Like I’m just a shadow with a sign saying, “Don’t look over here,”. I feel like I’ve been cut open and my organs on display when I wear bright colors (which is why I never do) and, I don’t know why, it infuriates me that people stick so far inside there own minds that they just assume things about other people- especially because it’s on such an easy topic of clothing.

    It makes me wonder what they think- and assume- about me.

    And that makes me wonder what they think about… 

    While students sit around me and text on their phones and the teacher procrastinates- what thoughts pass through their minds, if any? Do they question every second of reality? Do they dream about a time where their own thoughts will finally makes sense to them? How about dreaming for a time where they can accurately describe everything they feel?

    I’ve tried to describe myself to my reflection- I ended up a confused mess. 

    Because I can’t describe it- there is no words. And if I do, perchance, put my feelings into words- my next sentence completely contradicts it.

    It makes me wonder how my mind hasn’t torn itself apart yet…

    My choice of self-harm is cutting. If you want to be short and simple. If you wanted a more honest answer-

    I slice myself with razors, I burn myself, I scratch at my skin with my nail till my skin is raw. 
    I don’t eat, I eat and throw up, I eat way too much. 
    I don’t allow myself to sleep, I sleep all the time.
    I never socialize, I talk too much and people tell me how much they want me to just shut up.
    I sacrifice myself to help those around me, I shut out everyone around me…
    And see… even my list shows how… opposite… my actions are. 

    Everything comes and goes- like waves. The traits that get taken back out into the ocean are only randomly selected, the ones that get left behind stay for weeks and don’t end till that wave comes back. 

    My mind feels like it’s a tv with only static as channels, and yet- at the same time- someone’s holding a magnet to my screen. 

    There’s this hopeless feeling that comes and goes and it’s always my fault. 

    I shouldn’t be on this site. 

    I don’t want to get better.

    I want to stay in my box of a mind and push away all other obscurities.  

    I’m an enigma- a puzzle that’s missing pieces because I’m the one that threw them out. And it’s eating at my mind. 

    My thoughts can never get out- if they did my mother would be devestated, my brothers concerned and confused, and… I’d have nothing left for myself. 

    I have these impulses. Once they cross my mind I can’t abandon them. And it picks at my mind, I survive inside my thoughts for hours on end with no connection to the outside and that doesn’t bother me. 

    I’ve grown up with Social Phobia- but I never knew that was an actual thing. I never understood why I acted the way I did and why everyone else seemed to be fine- it was a hazardous thought that would occupy my mind power for weeks. Then I’d realize I didn’t care- for a few weeks I’d be fine(ish) again, and then the thoughts would return. Almost a year ago I was diagnosed with Social Phobia. I felt so relieved that there was an actual reason for why I am this way, like everything was finally being explained- and since then every time I think about my Social Phobia I don’t think about what it is or why I act like I do. Instead I think about the differences and how I might be able to act in order to overcome this phobia. This anxiety that has crippled me from doing almost everything I’ve wanted to. 

    So, I can only wonder, what would it feel like if someone told me why my brain is this way? 

    Would I find comfort in the thought of knowing this is something real and something with an answer, or will I feel helpless to it and be unable to change it? Because I can tell you right now- I’ve no reason to better myself, so there’s no reason I would. 

    And for the people who automatically think- “You can better it for you, for yourself,” Imma just stop you right here… 

    I’ve grown up surrounded by a life I constantly wanted to escape, and now that I have the chance I’m choosing to do nothing, I’m choosing to remain stuck with that small dream in the back of my mind that I still want better. This ‘dream’ has grown into my mind like a tumor and I’ve no plan to remove it. 

    I want people to know though- I want them to know about my constant fight for one solid psyche. But not only do I want them to know about it- I want them to understand it. If only I could take my words and paint a picture with them- or just simply draw a picture- that accurately describes me, then I wouldn’t feel so locked away and bound. 

    Right now everything’s okay… I’m living with the more positive thoughts- I sleep a little more than the average person, I eat a little more than the average person, and I talk a little more. 

    But that’s because I’m on the edge. I’m on the edge and waiting to either be lifted up or for that last little thing to snap into place. 

    My psyche is at stake- I’m in a battle that can only have one of two victors- psychosis, or sanity.

    And I need help… I need someone to help me figure out how to find my sanity again. I need that reason, or I’ll be lost. 

    There’s this hook inside my mind and at selected moments it pulls harder and gets just that much closer to snapping and becoming clasped into place. And that’s when I’ll be no more. There’ll be no more hope for me and there be nothing left… 

    I’m an adventurous spirit though- I love to live close to the edge. Everything’s so fine at the moment because I’m on this edge- I’m balancing and the adrenaline rush is killing me

    Just the thought of this is putting a smile on my face. Hahaha, oh wow. I know I can push just a little more and be even closer to the edge and push my high just as much. And it’s exhilarating.

    In this place- there is no wires. There is no bounds. There is nothing holding me back and there is nowhere to go- to the hopeless this may invoke the fetal position, but instead- to me, at the moment- it’s open

    It’s limitless with no expectations and it feeds on my heart- but I love it.

    It quesitons my sanity while making sure to never let go of it. It’s amazing and I love this part of my mind, there is no way I could better describe it but a smile on my face. It’s pushing my instincts and my imaginations together and while nothing remains to hold vibrance, everything seems like it’s real to my mind. It’s real enough to feel like a hallucination and that’s better than nothing. 

    Other’s are wondering what they’re going to do for graduation, for a college, for a job, for the rest of their lives… And I’m just here wondering if I’m going to crack.      

    … I’ve taken a step back from the edge now… I’ve been thinking for a few weeks now though… and I wonder if I should or not?

    Since I’m going to be a senior, and probably never see the kids in my school again, I was thinking of taking my bracelets off the last day of school and going around with my wrists exposed. Of course- at this point I’ll have to either have stopped cutting or just make sure not to cut my wrists. Because hey, I can’t get in trouble for having scars. 

    I think about what they’d think, what they’d say. Maybe they would finally understand a little- without me having to say anything- about this pain that’s growing in my brain and has never once left. They’d be able to see it and have a glimsp inside my mind. I would be able to show off my scars- a know a few of these marks are worthy… 

    But then again… 

    These are mine. I don’t want anyone else to see them, at least if they won’t appereciate them for what they are. I don’t want them to see my scars and think they’re fake, think I’m fake, or to think it’s nothing. 

    If they do see I want them to fully understand, I want them to act like it should be well known knowledge and for them to question themselves all while allowing me to remain that shadow holding the sign. I want to make them afraid. 

    Afraid of themselves and everything around them. 

    Things like this occupy my mind when I’m sitting in class. 

    It depends on what the waves have left on the beach. Sometimes my thoughts are like this, or they’re back to the ledge, or even further back to the mess of a mind I have… or back before any of this was even a word in this box- all the way back to the thoughts of my own death. The suicidal thoughts that shroud me and lock out all hopes or chances for a furture… but just like everything else, these thoughts will leave before I can fully decide what they mean and I’ll be left blank for a moment before everything is collected on the beach and the next survival test begins.

     

  13. Lilly22's Blog

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    Sometimes its hard interpreting what im feeling and usually that makes me feel worse. i have been off cutting for over a month now but its still difficult and still in the back of my mind. usually when im emotionally overwhelmed, stressed or emotionally and mentally tired i get the urges to cut, and its difficult resisting and im glad that im resisting and atleast know that i can do with out cutting. But sometimes when things feel too much i dont know what to do then i just start crying and crying until i feel a bit better, which is better than cutting however it will always be in the back of my head… I just wish i can get rid of the urges completely…

  14. bbak's Blog

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    Latest Entry

    Im having a difficult time…its hard to want to talk with someone about when i feel like cutitng, but knowing I cant chat quite yet. I know it is nice to have a spot to blog thoughts, but it is nice to talk with someone at that one moment. 

  15. nursieblondie's Blog

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    I need some advice!!

  16. Latest Entry

    I am back.I have been in the er for the last 25 days.I was homeless and a danger to myself and others.My month has been crazy.I can’t sleep at night.I am in a new group home.I have been cold and hot at night.I think I need new meds.I need to talk to my psy doctor also.I have been vountering at a horse ranch and it is boring sometimes.Next week the ranch is having a haloween party and I will help out next weekend.Hope is all well with you guys.Have a safe haloween.

  17. faithowen1998's Blog

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    Hello my name is Faith and well im going to tell you my cutting life. Well my life was good until something happened. On January 15 2013 my Dad passed away and everything went down hill. When i went back to school i got cards and stuff from my friends and they were very sweet. Then a couple months after all that there were rumors about me saying im pregnant but im not. Then people called me names and it made me feel like i did not belong here so I started to cut myself and it made me feel better because it got rid of the pain and it felt good to do. And now I have over 30 cuts on my arm. I want to tell some of my friends but i know they might tell so i keep it in the only person that knows about me still cutting is my sister Hope. And well she tells me to stop but i tell her it helps me get rid of the pain im in. I tell her she would do it if she was me but she’s not. So until this very day i still cut because i let things get to me i wish i was a person who really did not care what people say about me thanks to all. 

  18. cookiebug12's Blog

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    Latest Entry

    do i really matter?

    if i died today how many would go on to remember who i am or who i was?

    im just a girl that can’t change anything…but im too scared to do anything and to leave anyone behind. 

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  19. unbrokenserenityseeker's Blog

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    So.

    Day two.

    In recovery.

    Totally pissed off. I almost had a month, I was 21 days sober and clean. I was going to be so excited to hit that one month.

    I messed that up day before yesterday.

    Vodka.

    I’ve been burning myself and  feeling completely overwhelmed.

     

    Smoking like two packs a day lately.

     

    I don’t know. I just don’t.

     

    God Grant me the Serenity to Accept the Things I Cannot Change, the Courage to Change the Things I Can, and the Wisdom to Know the Difference.

  20. Brokeninsided347f93ef7a07e85's Blog

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    I have been through this for basically my whole life. Since middle school I have been bullied since then I have self harmed. I have insomnia,depression,anorexic nervosa,I’m bipolar and I have an anxiety disorder,I’m 14 and been through things I shouldn’t have. I know what you might be thinking ‘what do I know,I’m only a kid.’ But my story and scares can tell you so much more. I know what it feels like,The thoughts that go through your mind everyday,The urging feeling of self harm but it doesn’t need to be that way. You can do better and get better. I haven’t cut or self harmed in awhile and plan to keep it that way. I’m sorry if you feel so bad that you need to hurt yourself but you deserve so much better!  Your life matters to me! I’m here if you ever need me…Please speak up and say something. It might be the best thing you have ever done…

  21. Take a deep breath in the mirror.

    I know you don’t like it here.

    But everything will be okay.

    Watch as you run your finger tips

    Over your scarred hips.

    I promise it will be okay.

    I can see it in your eyes

    It’s hard to hide

    All of the pain

    I’ll grab your wrist

    And give it a little kiss

    Your scars are a stubborn stain.

    Please put down that knife

    Everything will be alright

    Just have faith in me.

    You will win this war.

    I can almost see it walking out that door.

    Open your eyes and you will see.

    You won the fight.

    Now you can sleep through the night

    You can now sing.

    If you’re feeling blue,

    I’m here for you

    Don’t worry about a thing.

     

     

  22. tpierce071's Blog

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    Let me start by saying I don’t care if anyone reads this. I don’t care if this gets buried somewhere deep in the sea of webpages. I am here because I have no one to talk to. Yes, I have people who say they are here if I need them, but honestly they don’t want to know.

    Things are a lot worse than what they know or could really even think. My addiction to self harm is way beyond my control and has been for a while. I have been cutting  since I was 14 years old. I don’t remember what made me first want to cut, but I had heard about it from a friend and she encouraged me to try it. Cino de Mayo. The day that changed my life.

    At first I had used a piece of ripped off plastic from a ruler. I cut my wrist and it was an instant addiction, although I hadn’t realized it yet. After a week, my family had found out and I was put into couseling and on put on anti-depressants. The thing was, I didn’t want to get better.

    I stopped taking my anti-depressants started flushing them down the toilet instead. After a little bit I started feeling the urges to cut. So not really caring what happened to me, I started again. This time I was a lot more careful as far as hiding it and who I told. I had started on my lower leg by my ankle because my wrist was too obvious. This went on for the next 3 years.

    I met my current boyfriend in 2010 and began dating him in 2011. I could see how much it was hurting him, so I gave it up for him. What I soon came to realize is that you can’t give it up for someone else. I started getting really bad panic attacks because I wasn’t cutting. It was causing me more pain without it so I started again.

    I would always say I would stop and then start again. So this time I said I’m not stopping. This stops from disappointing the people who mean the most to me. If I happen to not do, it’s because I don’t need to. However, this time is much worse than it has been in about 4 years. My cuts are longer, deeper, and spreading down my thighs. I can no longer wear shorts and some of the pants I have.

    I think about cutting myself almost every minute of every day. I want to go buy a box cutter that way I can get deeper cuts. This has such a strong hold on me and I don’t want to break free. I keep thinking that one day I will go too deep and it will be okay because I can stop hurting them. It is destroying my life and I am welcoming it to do even more damage.

  23. faith22's Blog

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    So I’ve been triggered the last 24 hours. I just found out my husband could be going away for 6 years and that has been very hard on me. He has been my hope and the one person who has tried to understand why I cut and wants to help me and I fear if he goes away I will lose all hope. . Have you. Heard that son clarity by zebra of so that OS how I feel right now. I don’t want to seen like Im weak but I feel very weak and pulled.down right now. I just wanted to blog so I could.try and keep my promise to him that I would not cut

  24. Latest Entry

    People aren’t interested in the truth… They’re interested in what keeps them safe. - Melina M.

    False hope is a terrible thing, if it’s the only thing keeping you alive you’ll be dead by dawn. - Charlie R.

    I have a hard time believing in putting the words “false” and “hope” together. I guess it’s because I cannot understand the meaning behind it. How can there be such a thing? How can you have strong hope but it be false? How can you wish and believe with all of your heart and soul something that is wrong? How can hope have a right or a wrong? It is hope. Although just the definition of hope alone is something I have trouble with.

    Hope (Verb)

    1. To cherish a desire with anticipation.

    2. To desire with expectation of obtainment.

    3. To expect with confidence.

    What I cannot understand is why they use the word “expect”. How can you expect something with hope? If you believe something is that the same as expecting it? I guess in some ways it is… But not in all ways. And that is another thing I cannot understand. Does believing something have a right or a wrong? It is a belief. So how could it? Does it all come down to reality?

    Believe (Verb)

    1. To have a firm religious faith.

    2. To accept something as true, or real.

    3. To have a firm conviction as to the goodness, or ability of something.

    4. To hold as an opinion.

    5. To consider to be true or honest.

    Reality (Noun)

    1. Something that is neither derivative nor dependent but exists necessarily.

    2. In actual fact.

    Even the definitions of the word believe uses the words “consider” and “opinion”. So how can your belief have a right or a wrong? I was taught that an opinion cannot be either or, so unless that’s a lie; a belief has to follow the same rules. As for reality the definition calls it a fact. It is just there. But to me, nobody knows the true reality. There can be a high possibility, a low possibility, or a half and half chance. Nobody knows for sure. Anything is possible. Therefore we all may have or live in a different reality. So the saying “It all depends on how you look at things” really is true.  Wow.

  25. fallen_crow's Blog

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    I only joined this site yesterday so this is my first blog which is also my confession. I abuse alcohol, cut and I interrupt healing by reopening my scabs. I have cut and reopened my scabs for pain since middle school. I am 21 now and have found a new addiction in alcohol. I have battle my self injury for so long and have never told anyone about it. It is a battle that I have fought on my own for all this time. For a 7 month stretch from dec 2 until july 22 I was self injury free because I found the love of my life and was at the highest point of my life. She made me forget about all of my family issues that surround me daily. She made me feel like a somebody and not worthless. On July 22nd that all ended and she left. Ever since then I’ve been on a downward spiral spinning out of control. I’ve started cutting again to feel anything other than heartache. The pain comforts me it always has but now the sting has lost its power to make me forget to make me numb. Everytime I take the razor to my skin or rip off a scab the numbness only last for a short while now not like before. When cutting doesn’t help and the blood dries I turn to the bottle and become numb which is all I want to be. I don’t want to feel anything except my girl’s touch again. But I can’t so instead I feel the blade on my skin, the rip of my skin and the burn of the alcohol. That is my confession the secret I’ve held for 8 years. Maybe to confess will make me stop. I don’t know. But I’m still alive so that’s something. Long as I still breathe I’m winning a battle in an endless war.

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Welcome to self-injury.net. We are a support community for self-harmers and also provide information on self-harm, creative works, media lists, lists of resources (helplines, textlines, mental health apps, therapists, etc.), etc. We focus on self-injury but a number of other mental health issues are included.

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Hannibal