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@causeimstillsad
Checking in would be nice
“Drunk me is a dangerous me, because drunk me doesn’t care about anything at all. Drunk me could kill herself without realising the consequences it brings…”
—
Being in a relationship with both people who have dealt with self harm is hard. HARDD let me tell you.
Thanks. Thanks for being there.
I can’t even fuck up right. Why am I like this
“Sometimes I forget that I wear a scarred body, that it has seen battle. I look in the mirror and for a moment fear fills me, I’m bleeding … and then I remember, the hours spent with the blade, the blood hitting the floor, the bandaids discarded in the bin. What sort of monster could harm someone like this? Oh that was me. The monster is in my head.”
— A.G. - Forgotten Scars
“I just want to tell you that it’s completely okay if you can’t handle my flaws or lose interest in me because I don’t expect you to when I can’t even like myself right now. It’s been great believing that someone out there accepts me and I guess it doesn’t last - but it’s fine. I don’t really care that much anymore. Sure, I’ll suffer on my own like before but at least I don’t have to drag someone into this.”
— Loving with Anxiety
I’d quite like to spend the rest of my life with you
When I lay down with my boyfriend a wave of fear washes over me about dying. About the future. About being without him or not feeling anything. Of being dead.
But when I’m in my room alone at night, dread in my stomach and cuts on my hips, I don’t fear death.
I want my arms to be as wounded as my soul.
emotional self-harm exists and is fucking horrible
“You’ll never really be happy. You don’t fucking deserve it.”
~3:48AM
-I’m sorry 😔
Expectations slowly kill a person.
Relapse
I relapsed again a few minutes ago.
I put one little red line on my palm. Just one.
I didn't even feel it. I wanted to tear my hand open but I was so damn tired so I looked at the blood and I threw the knife away.
I don't need 100 scars to see. I relapsed. Again. Just when I was "doing fine" hours ago. End of the story.
The real problem is that I don't even care to stop. I love the scars. I hate seeing them fading away. I want to carve what I go through over and over again to my body.
I feel nothing at all. I just want to cut without a reason.
I am this done.
Yet I'm gonna play my part of "being fine" tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. To the point I can keep this up silently, secretly..
I just..
Don't wanna try anymore..