#self harming

[darthnachos]

I fucking need my Mickey because burning technique starts to fade.

[rip-irxnx333]

Yo:

Yo en la mañana viendo el destrozo k hice en mi brazo x un bajón nocturno

[textpostsofananon]

Notes game!

1 note: I make a post begging for notes and attention, promising to do mundane things at first then life changing things later, as if 1 post being reblogged and commented on by 3 random people 300 times will make me turn my life around completely. I already know what I need to do as Ill make a list, so then I put all the weight of my actions and lack thereof on readers of my post. I can now rest easy not doing the hard things in my life due to the excuse that I'd only do it at an obsurd number of notes

[unburyghostly]

UNFINISHED WORK. Trigger warning for Self Harming. I won't ever finish and I want to delete it from docs so I'm posting it!

It took Price nearly a month to catch up with Ghost's antiques. At first, he was in denial, then confused, he was done at some point but eventually let that go.

Awkward posing, his body always looked tense and turned in a somewhat unnatural way as if he was purposefully turning certain body parts away from his vision. It was natural enough that he couldn't point that out without sounding like an asshole but noticeable enough that bells ringed into his ears instantly. Price let that go, though. Ghost was as sharp as ever and recovered from their last straining mission.

He didn't comment on that, forced himself to stop recognizing that pattern and kept going on with life. It was hard, though. When Ghost sat down during this concerning month Price almost felt like going down this unknown territory, Simon was one of his men for goodness sake but he didn't. It clearly was something that didn't affect Ghost’s performance and, by visuals alone, he didn't seem like he was doing badly mentally. 

The month passed eventually, new and more serious things showed up and with time, that was barely a weird event Price remembered. He didn't remember, actually, at all.

As for Ghost, he hasn't felt a single true feeling or anything of that matter for nearly two months now. The beginning of it was weird and off putting. Soap came, as always, to check up on him and to chat a little. What Ghost felt at that moment was, well, nothing. Just dread. Soap didn't stop talking ever and Ghost’s attention was into something else, he couldn't even feel bad for letting Soap talk alone, just kept looking and nodding whenever it felt like it was right.

Later that week, everyone got out for drinks. Horrible night for Ghost too, everyone looked clearly more connected with each other than with him, he chimed in and made jokes and they laughed but it ended at that. He started noticing and Gaz talked easily about his personal life with Soap, Price gave his two cents every now and then. Ghost couldn't, though. It didn't work.

Was he going crazy? Whenever words came out of his mouth he stuttered, the phrases didn't quite connect to make enough sense and it felt like the air got awkward. So they kept talking, and Ghost kept quiet. Soap laughed at something Price said, Gaz agreed heavily to Soap's comments, Price seemed content to share them both his thoughts. Where was Ghost in all of this? He didn't seem… there. Didn't feel important nor necessary. So he made himself that way.

The self harm started that same day. As soon as their car parked on base, he gave everyone a short “g’nite” and made his way to his own dorm, locking himself in the bathroom. 

There was a calling he never realized existed deep into his mind, a voice begging for something. 

To be hurt.

Simon Riley would never, ever in his life call it that way. Ghost? Wouldn't even acknowledge it as something that existed. Simon felt ashamed that he would indulge in self harming in his late thirties, but here he was, punching his body and pinching it to make sure it would bruise. It hurt, and that physical feeling felt freeing. It hurt so badly he could barely withstand it but the thought of how he would look later made it worth it.

Was he doing it just for the aesthetic of it? So he could look pretty in purple? That passed through his mind and made him stop and analyze the situation he was in right now. It was, on average, hitting 33°C everyday. He had to use summer-deployment-clothes. He didn't feel seen for the first time in 15 years and his first reaction was to… harm himself? He looked ridiculous. And it would be basically impossible to hide these things during these conditions.

But as he looked in the mirror, the redness spreading in his stomach and arms seemed so small but the beginning of something. Maybe he wanted attention? That was the reason why this had started. 

Pacing around in his room, he tried to put his mind at ease through logical thinking. He was drunk, his feelings were clearly clouding his mind and this was a one time thing. He settled down for the night with an ever present ache on his arms and tummy that didn't let him fully calm down.

—

It happened again the very next day. For someone who couldn't feel anything, Simon felt a lot during these 24 hours. Shame, fear, anger. All of those towards himself and specifically anger, there was so much anger. He didn't know what to do with all that.

During gym in the morning his focus would keep switching away, during lunch he could feel everyone's looks towards the purple on his arms,  while he trained the recruits there wasn't any life or want of anything. Nothing. He got so angry, so fed up. So, the only logical, clear answer to all of this was… to discount everything on himself.

[rip-irxnx333]

SANGRE MI BRAZO EN PARTES

[pjo-nerd-15]

Gonna vent on here cuz none of my family has Tumblr other than my aunt but she other nows half the shit I'm going through or some and nobody's probably gonna she my shitty life but I started SH and having kms thoughts cuz of my shitty abusive mom that won't let me see my dad (their split up never got married) her and my step dad (can't really call him that but he pays the bills and puts food on the table) they argue a lot and my "step dad" is an alcoholic and has anger issues and when I don't have my phone I'm lonely so I almost SH but I distracted myself by reading (reading amazing and helps me from my depression) but I can't really talk to my BFF (my only friend I have that ain't from social media) cuz she will call CPS and if that happens I'll go to foster home and it'll probably be worse I'm also homeschooled so I stay inside with no social life ain't that amazing I also get made fun of a lot by my "step dad" and my mom makes me go on diets and all this crap basically calling me fat which I don't think I am but I'm just over it she's been mentally abusing me and physically abusing me some time for years know I just never noticed it till i was 10 and it got worse when I was 12 that's when my parents split up thanks for listening to my shitty life which nobody's probably gonna read this whole paragraph but yeah