Selfharm - Blog Posts

Here is your friendly reminder to not comment on someones selfharm scars.

Please.

Dont.

Its none of your buisness, untill they come to you.

And please stop telling people with scars you'll beat them up if they ever do it again. You might feel like you are helping or whatever goes through your head when you think its actualy okay to say stuff like that.

When you say something like that you only help the person to feel more guilthy and horrible when they do have a relapse.

Also please dont touch other peoples scars, i have had many times where people rabdomly grabbed my arms to look at them. Its weird and very unnecesary.

And if you realy cant help the urge to comment on them, do NOT say that they are ugly or that they ruined their body.

Thank you.

Does anyone have any good sad songs I'm going thru some stuff.

Love is a powerful word

Yet slightly absurd

To give someone your all

Yet not got the strength

To put what you have

Into yourself

Its extraordinary

How we work like that

Is that human error

Or just a self flaw.

@trueemotions91

Now who's going to love me for the scars you left behind??

I don't just like you, I love you and that scares me..

i’m so proud of myself!

two years cutting free and one year self harming free :')

Tʀᴀᴅᴜᴢɪᴏɴᴇ:

“Voglio solo dire addio, scomparire senza che nessuno lo sappia; non voglio vivere questa bugia, sorridendo al mondo inconsapevole. Non voglio che ci provi, hai fatto abbastanza per mandarmi avanti; starò bene, starò bene, starò bene per l'ultima volta.”

[𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 • 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝]

I wish i didn't fall for you as hard and fast as i did. I hate myself for it. I want to die. I want to be ripped up and into shreds. I just dont want to exist anymore.

I am begining to realize, once again, that i probably dont matter to the one i love. That hes probably just using me, saying that he loves me because my house is the safe place. I dont want it to be true, but he wont really talk to me when hes not here. I just want to be loved without having to work so god damn hard for it.

Im missing you so much right now. I want you to be here with me. I want to be in your arms for the rest of our lives because that is how i actually feel. I'm starting to, once again, imagine my wedding. I haven't done this in years because i didnt think id make it to 18. But here i am, thinking i wont make it to 20 anymore and being absolutly in love with your smile, your laugh, your dumb little quirks that you have, and the way you make me feel.

I just dont know if i am good enough for the love you say you have for me.

I really am so alone. I just want to die. I am meaningless. No ome actually cares, so why would I?

Im sitting outside, alone. All i have are my thoughts, but they arent very nice. I hope that the boy in my house would come out and talk, but I know he wouldn't want to talk to me. Who does? All i am is a horrible person and i don't deserve anything.

I fucking got triggered into a depressive episode when i watched pitch perfect for the first time last night. Seeing the two main characters not talk to eachother because of a fight is one of my biggest fears with me and the few people i do talk to. I hate myself lmao

"I wish I could've been the person child me would want to be like."

- Unknown

the stars were all aligned, and i found comfort in you instead of the self destruction i knew so well. it was like you had moved the stars into alignment, you were so heavenly to me. but as soon as you left, the stars began to fall from the skies. my constellations broke, and stars began to fade. i returned back to the self destruction. sharp blades found their home on my ghostly skin, drugs that people my age shouldn’t even be aware of were my closest friends, i found security in the arms of naked strangers. you were my safety, and now all i crave is danger so that maybe i could feel safe again.

warmups, warmups, warmups

TW: Selfharm

Just one cut. Only one tiny simple cut. That's how it starts, one cut.

It starts with one at a time, "I can always just stop". Then it's more and more, you stop wearing short sleeved tops. Your whole arm is covered in cuts and blood, dried and fresh.

Your arm is one giant scar and suddenly you can't stop, suddenly you're addicted. You always wear long shirts, hoodies or pullovers. You tell the others it's just because you're cold.

You get cold easily. They don't even notice that you flinch when anyone touches your arm. They don't know, they can't.

You pray that noone will ever know, how disappointing that would be to everyone. But at the same time you need someone to find out, intervene. You realize that it is wrong and harmful, an addition yet you also can't seem to stop. You can't stop, you keep going. Hoping for someone, anyone to take notice and do something.

You're clean. You've been for some...months, maybe a year or two. You don't exactly remember. No one was there to celebrate milestones, so you forgot. They couldn't have been there, you never told them.

You're clean, but ever time you feel so lost like you're stuck in a void...you want to cut again. You can't help it, it's the addiction speaking. You will never be able to live like "normal" people.

For a while you hide your arm but as time goes by the scars fade. At first you're mortified, they shouldn't fade that would mean that they were never deep enough to be real. But they were real, you bled and your arm is now covered in healed cuts, scars.

By now you only look at your arm sometimes. Noone else can see them, the scars but you. You can still see the distinct lines of where you cut.

You tell yourself "just one cut". One cut couldn't hurt, right? But instead of giving in you start to do other things. You draw, sometimes crochet or write. No more cuts, no more.