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ec82f9a
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I will no longer mutilate and destroy myself in order to find a secret behind the ruins.
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truth
wisdom
self-destruction
self-mutilation
|
Hermann Hesse |
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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.
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cutting
self-harm
si
self-injury
self-mutilation
|
Caroline Kettlewell |
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07bf556
|
I tried cutting myself to express my heartbreak over Tommy (Lord Flood) rejecting me, but OMFG it hurts like flaming fuck.
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|
pain
love
hurt
self-mutilation
|
Christopher Moore |
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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."
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|
suicide
grief
loss
dark
friends
death
sadness
friendship
dysfunctional
swing-set
confusion
morbid
spooky
creepy
canada
help
friend
self-harm
self-mutilation
halloween
drugs
dying
nostalgia
|
Rebecca McNutt |
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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.
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|
depression
self-harm
self-mutilation
|
Caitlin Moran |
|
b6357f6
|
If I could open a vein. Not to inject any shit, I will never weaken like that again, but just to feel the kick of it, the old memory. So this numbness lifts. So I could get back there easier.
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sobriety
self-mutilation
|
Joyce Carol Oates |
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db92101
|
If a heart could fail in its pumping, a lung in its breathing, then why not a brain in its thinking, rendering the world forever askew, like a television with bad reception? And couldn't a brain fail as arbitrarily as any one of these other parts, without regard to the blessing and cosseting that, everyone was so eager to remind you, disentitled you from unhappiness?
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|
self-mutilation
mental-illness
|
Caroline Kettlewell |