Ok But Same.

I've tried it once and samee

you know what i find interesting? those stories about suicide survivors that say they realized every one of their problems could be solved without suicide as they were attempting (and obviously failed). they were glad to have failed, and use this to encourage others not to commit suicide.

but for me, i’ve personally attempted twice. I’ve only felt even sadder that I didn’t die. so yea, pretty much guaranteed that suicide is what it’s gonna be for me.

It’s so hard healing and staying clean when my scars just work as a constant reminder of what I used to do and still have the urge to do. I look down and see those lines going up and down my arms and I’m just reminded of the feelings that accompanied them. The hopelessness, sadness, and pain that lead me to do it, and the release that came when I made them. I still feel that hopelessness and sadness a decade later, it never goes away, and the urge to self harm always comes back like a demon I can’t get rid of. I’ve gotten much better at suppressing the urge to do it as I’ve gotten older and gained more coping mechanisms, but it refuses to go away completely.

It’s not even just the reminder of the urge that sucks. I feel so much shame when I look at them; I feel like if people see my arms then they just see me as broken or damaged goods. I absolutely cannot stand the looks of pity or faux concern or- god forbid the look of disgust- when someone looks at my scars before my face. It really doesn’t help when my coworker tells me about his latest dating escapades and always brings up his current partner’s scars offhand like it’s an issue or a concern he needs to be wary of. It makes me wonder if he knows, if he’s seen my scars. He’s had to at some point, I’ve worn short sleeves to work before but not often. But he’s had to have seen. That makes me wonder then if he’s trying to get me to say something about it. I don’t know what exactly, but the whole situation leaves a bad taste in my mouth and further fuels my feelings of shame.

The stigma surrounding self harm is still extremely prevalent and does nothing to help those who may be struggling with it. Until we are able to discuss our past or current struggles without fear of rejection or shame from those around us, these conversations will be far and few between, and there will be less people who are able to seek healing.

Stop guilt tripping the suicidal

People need to stop guilt tripping suicidal people. We feel enough guilt from our brain telling us what pieces of shit we are. Guilting us by saying we’re going to cause heart ache to those around us is unproductive. Instead of wanting me to stay alive due to your selfish reasons try and help me stay alive for myself. Just like cancer is part of the body attacking itself mental illness is the brain attacking the body and most of us who are suicidal or end up going through with it didn’t do so willingly. We lost a battle with our own brain. Please be kind and careful when talking to suicidal people like we try and be kind and careful to not hurt you with our feelings. We don’t want to hurt others. We are fighting within ourselves whether to release ourselves from such horrible pain or continue trotting on for the sake of others. We try our hardest. We’re not all successful. And while it’s heartbreaking when someone loses a battle to depression it isn’t their will or desire to hurt others. It’s this yearning to finally find inner peace, and it’s the body’s way of obtaining it.

It counts as self harm. If you scratch yourself on purpose but its only a red bulge it still counts as sled harm.

When I’m anxious I chew the skin on my fingers, sometimes it bleeds, sometimes it bleeds a lot. I can never quite figure out if it counts or not

this post hasn't left my mind since i've first saw it

This.

Everybody thinks I’m so happy.

And I’m like : « Ok, but I won’t show you my arms and my thighs. You won’t see me crying the whole night and fall asleep at 4am. Neither when I can’t breathe because of my anxiety. Neither when I go to the toilets to cry. Neither when I have a binge eating episode. Or when I throw up in the toilets. Neither when I put a fake smile on my face when I have to meet people. Neither when I wake up and think about dying. You will never see this part of me. »