Beauty in the Blood.

On the outside, I am your average Jane-I have a job, attend college, live with my parents and younger brother, have many wonderful friends, but that is all just a facade. Behind my glass wall, I struggle with dark secrets that keep me from ever completely enjoying even one day to the fullest. This is my story-from pain to victory, and back again. A never-ending cycle in which I have lost control over the very thing I thought I controlled.

[teenagepics]

If you’re a teen you must follow this blog.

[teenagepics]

If you’re a teen you must follow this blog.

[teenagepics]

If you’re a teen you must follow this blog.

[skumbags]

[animalsnaps]

[dweamwithinadweam]

Love says: I’ve seen the ugly parts of you, and I’m staying.

Matt Chandler (via makingbettermistakes)

[incompleto-world]

[theplacewheresoulmeetsbody]

[congregated]

vertical﹠vintage blog

[ilaurens]

[alxvse]

[woodlvnds]

[breakinq]

vertical/personal 

[therelatableimages]

[underveins]

1/idk lyric edits

[morganapendragons]

La Dispute - Said The King To The River

Not my photo, just my edit.

[0rient-express]

[dearmariah-countmein]

my edit please dont repost without crediting me uwu

(idk i really like making edits)

[itisnotachoice-itisacurse]

Tonight's Just One of Those Nights...

Actually, it’s just been one of those weeks.

I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. I’m stressed. I’m internally sick. I’m fighting wave after wave so I don’t slip into a depression for the next 4 weeks or so like I normally do….

But I’m getting weaker.

Last night I really really wanted to cut..I was going to my “secret place” to get my blade but instead, I forced myself to grab my laptop and furiously vent EVERYTHING inside my churning heart and stomach and mind.

It worked a little. I mean, you know how it goes when you suffer from depression-everything becomes jumbled in your head and you can’t organize your thoughts quickly enough to type everything out in an orderly fashion.

But I tried. And I wrote A LOT. And a lot of it was angry words that if I verbally spoke them, I would probably ruin a dear friendship forever.

Now tonight, I’m writing again. Because I’m angry again-not as angry as I was last night, but still, angry.

Just tired of selfishness and self-centeredness. (yes, I know centeredness is not a word…it is now hehe).

I feel so anxious I am literally sick to my stomach. Well, I haven’t literally puked yet, but the last few days I’ve had that disgusting vomity phlem in my esophagus and stomach.

That stuff BURNS you know..it’s like someone gave you acid to swallow, except it’s not really as strong as real acid, of course.

Anyway..it’s been there. And I haven’t been eating a lot since I came back from Chicago last Monday. Plus I have an ulcer in my mouth. Fantastic.

I’ve been gargling warm salt water and directly applying salt to it and it FUCKING BURNS like the acid in my throat. Yet it’s still there, it refuses to go away.

I think when I’m upset or stressing, I get these symptoms.

I wonder if it’s normal?

Ha. Normal. What a funny word..

Me. Normal. What a funny thought..

I just wish I didn’t struggle with such darkness.

Why me? Where did it come from? How can I make it go away and leave me the fuck alone?

This past week, I’ve been staring at my scars a lot..particularly the scars on my wrist.

I like them.

Is that twisted or what?

I stare at them and I think they’re pretty. And I want more of them.

Because when I look at them I remember when I etched each one of them into my virgin, white skin. I remember how I felt something as I watched the tiny blood red droplets seep through my sliced flesh.

And I miss it.

I miss the feeling of a beating pulse underneath my blade.

One time, I tried cutting the big blue vein that I can trace with my eye from my forearm, to wrist, to hand.

That beautiful, bulging vein.

How it just BEGGED me to slice it open..

To watch the life within me bleed out all around me.

So I tried to cut it.

But it was bulging and beating too quickly for me to catch it the right way and so instead, I only scratched around it. But through those “scratches”, if you looked closely, you could make out the letter “F” as the blood rushed out of the opened skin..

Blades are a beautiful thing.

Apply a small amount of pressure and they open anything you want opened.

So quick. So easy. So much blood. So much life being taken away with one swift swipe..

That’s all it takes.

One. Small. Slice.

Oh my God. What the fuck am I saying?

Someone, help! This is so wrong. So very very wrong…And yet. It’s too late.

I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I couldn’t resist. I just couldn’t. My wrist wanted it! It looked so pale and lifeless, but now it’s not anymore. Now it’s throbbing life through the beads of red everywhere.

I can feel life rushing through my arm again. I am still alive, guys. There’s still life underneath all of this darkness.

I guess you’ve just gotta cut a little deep into the skin if you wanna feel it. If you wanna see it.

And I did. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to see it.

Another set of scars to add..

Another set of wounds to remind me that there’s life underneath all of this pale skin.