|
96636df
|
You might imagine that a person would resort to self-mutilation only under extremes of duress, but once I'd crossed that line the first time, taken that fateful step off the precipice, then almost any reason was a good enough reason, almost any provocation was provocation enough. Cutting was my all-purpose solution.
|
|
cutting
self-harm
si
|
Caroline Kettlewell |
|
afe1b7b
|
That's when I wanted to cut. I cut to quiet the cacophony. I cut to end this abstracted agony, to reel my selves back to one present and physical whole, whose blood was the proof of her tangibility.
|
|
cutting
self-harm
self-injury
self-mutilation
si
|
Caroline Kettlewell |
|
1a4b730
|
"Do you know that feeling? When everything you do seems like a struggle. Where you dont wanna leave the house because you know everyone is judging you. Where you cant even ask for directions in fear that they critise you. Where everyone always seems to be picking out your flaws. That feeling where you feel so damn sick for no reason. Do you know that feeling where you look in the mirror and completly hate what you see. When you grab handfuls and handfuls of fat and just want to cut it all off. That feeling when you see other beautiful girls and just wish you looked like them. When you compare yourself to everyone you meet. When you realise why no one ever showed intrest in you. That feeling where you become so self conscious you dont even turn up at school. That feeling when you feel so disappointed in who you are and everything you have become. That feeling when every bite makes you wanna be sick. When hunger is more satifying that food. The feeling of failure when you eat a meal. Do you know that feeling when you cant run as far as your class. Fear knowing that everyone thinks of you as the"Unfit FAT BITCH" That feeling when you just wanna let it all out but you dont wanna look weak. The fear you have in class when you dont understand something but your too afraid to ask for help. The feeling of being to ashamed to stand up for yourself.
|
|
depression
depression-quotes
depression-recovery
school
self-harm
self-hate
teenagers
|
Anonymous. |
|
bef70d6
|
"Girls are always saying things like, "I'm so unhappy that I'm going to overdose on aspirin," but they'd be awfully surprised if they succeeded. They have no intention of dying. At the first sight of blood, they panic."
|
|
death
depression
diary-entry
dying
journal
panic
rachel-klein
sad-girl
self-harm
suicide
teen-angst
the-moth-diaries
unhappy
|
Rachel Klein |
|
eb08051
|
Why?' She nods. 'She had everything: a family who loved her, friends, activities. Her mother wants to know why she threw it all away?' Why you want to know why? Step into a tanning booth and fry yourself for two or three days. After your skin bubbles and falls off, roll in coarse salt, then put on long underwear woven from spun glass and razor wire. Over that goes your regular clothes, as long as they are tight. Smoke gunpowder and go to school to jump through hoops, sit up and beg, and roll over on command. Listen to the whispers that curl into your head at night, calling you ugly and fat and stupid and bitch and whore and worst of all 'A disappointment.' Puke and starve and cut and drink because you need an anesthetic and it works. For a while. But then the anesthetic turns into poison and by then it's too late because you are mainlining it now, straight into your soul. It is rotting you and you can't stop. Look in a mirror and find a ghost. Hear every heartbeat scream that everythingsinglething is wrong with you. 'Why?' is the wrong question. Ask 'Why not?
|
|
anorexia-nervosa
anorexic
self-harm
starve
suicide
why
|
Laurie Halse Anderson |
|
b28a44f
|
I moved in front of the medicine cabinet. If I looked in the mirror while I did it, it would be like watching somebody else, in a book or a play.
|
|
depression
mental-health
self-harm
surrealism
|
Sylvia Plath |
|
5ab42bf
|
"Yesterday it was sun outside. The sky was blue and people were lying under blooming cherry trees in the park. It was Friday, so records were released, that people have been working on for years. Friends around me find success and level up, do fancy photo shoots and get featured on big, white, movie screens. There were parties and lovers, hand in hand, laughing perfectly loud, but I walked numbly through the park, round and round, 40 times for 4 hours just wanting to make it through the day. There's a weight that inhabits my chest some times. Like a lock in my throat, making it hard to breathe. A little less air got through and the sky was so blue I couldn't look at it because it made me sad, swelling tears in my eyes and they dripped quietly on the floor as I got on with my day. I tried to keep my focus, ticked off the to-do list, did my chores. Packed orders, wrote emails, paid bills and rewrote stories, but the panic kept growing, exploding in my chest. Tears falling on the desk tick tick tick me not making a sound and some days I just don't know what to do. Where to go or who to see and I try to be gentle, soft and kind, but anxiety eats you up and I just want to be fine. This is not beautiful. This is not useful. You can not do anything with it and it tries to control you, throw you off your balance and lovely ways but you can not let it. I cleaned up. Took myself for a walk. Tried to keep my eyes on the sky. Stayed away from the alcohol, stayed away from the destructive tools we learn to use. the smoking and the starving, the running, the madness, thinking it will help but it only feeds the fire and I don't want to hurt myself anymore. I made it through and today I woke up, lighter and proud because I'm still here. There are flowers growing outside my window. The coffee is warm, the air is pure. In a few hours I'll be on a train on my way to sing for people who invited me to come, to sing, for them. My own songs, that I created. Me--little me. From nowhere at all. And I have people around that I like and can laugh with, and it's spring again.
|
|
alcohol
anxiety
art
balance
be-okay
chest
coffee
crying
drinking
ed
fine
flowers
focus
grateful
gratitude
happiness
hope
hopeful
hopeless
hurt
inspiration
joy
lovely
lovers
madness
mental-health
music
new-day
okay
panic
panic-attack
panic-attacks
park
recovery
sad
sadness
self-destruction
self-harm
sing
singing
sky
smoking
songs
sound
spring
starving
tears
walking
well-being
wellness
|
Charlotte Eriksson |
|
9bd1a3f
|
Evolution has taught them that pointless harm will ultimately harm themselves.
|
|
pointless-harm
science
self-harm
|
Carl Zimmer |
|
f9ce0b1
|
The scabs feel like I have a message on my arm. Something that needs to be read, urgently, by someone. It was only years later that I realized the person I had written that message to- the person who wasn't listening- was me. I was the one who should have been staring at that arm, and working out what the red hieroglyphics meant. Had I translated them, I would have realized those red lines read: 'Never feel this bad again. Never come back to this place, where only a knife will do. Live a gentle and kind life. Don't do things that make you want to hurt yourself. Whatever you do, every day, remember this- then steer away from here.
|
|
depression
self-harm
self-mutilation
|
Caitlin Moran |
|
1c9d77f
|
"Why'd you want to kill yourself? Didn't you feel anything, or didn't it hurt you?" Mandy questioned, looking puzzled. "Yes, I suppose it did, ... it was strange, it was sharp, that's all I can think of to describe it... and cold, but not cold like ice, more like... I don't know, like something much worse, something horrible... and it seemed like the ground was falling upwards, becoming the sky... for a moment it made me consider that it was just a dream, that I was on some sort of drug, and then I remember being overjoyed to see the sky was still above me, then just really sad, really tired... and then I don't remember much else about it," Alecto told her, glaring straight ahead at the sky with narrowed eyes. "I don't mind, I'm not supposed to mind, anyway. Mearth already told me that eventually I would want to be dead, that it was inevitable... still, I sometimes wish that I could have done something good for other people in my life, it might have made up for all the bad stuff I've done."
|
|
canada
confusion
creepy
dark
death
drugs
dying
dysfunctional
friend
friends
friendship
grief
halloween
help
loss
morbid
nostalgia
sadness
self-harm
self-mutilation
spooky
suicide
swing-set
|
Rebecca McNutt |
|
b4dbfa8
|
"Kipster is a perfectly valid word," Wendy argued, about to write down her score on the little notepad that had come with the game. "Okay, so what does it mean?" Mandy wanted to know. Wendy struggled to come up with an answer, and finally just changed the subject with school gossip. Mandy found herself just ignoring it... it always sounded the same, the same events, same rumors, same secrets, same affairs, but never anything of interest to her. "Well Sarah's on drugs again and that's why she did it in Mario's backseat, but now she might be pregnant, oh, and that messed-up Seth kid's been cutting himself again so he was sent away to Halifax last week, and there's a festival in Wolfville but Kathy won't go because Audrey-Rose is going to be there and they hate each other, and...." Mandy had learned two years ago to detach herself from gossip; she'd learned it from Jud's death. Wendy may have been eighteen years old but she could be immature on the best of days."
|
|
80-s
argue
baby
boring
bullying
canada
cape-breton
coming-of-age
drama
drama-queen
eating
eighties
fighting
funny
game
gossip
growing-up
kipster
maturity
nostalgia
nova-scotia
pollution
rumors
scary
scrabble
self-harm
suicide
teenage
words
|
Rebecca McNutt |
|
a6d444c
|
Her fight with alcohol had made for contentious exchanges and, if that were possible, even more contentious silences. Tony, empathetic to the point of self-harming, felt the pain of her abstinence as powerfully as anything he'd ever endured personally.
|
|
alcholism
empath
empathetic
empathy-for-others
recovering-alcoholism
self-harm
|
Val McDermid |