Originally Posted by pluzzle
(Post 449113)
here is everything.
Tw: suicide, selfharm, food issues, overall depressiony i guess
*this could come off as attention seeking i guess so sorry >_>*
For about 8 months now, I have self-harmed. I have cut, scratched, and hit myself. I used to say that whenever I wanted, I could just never do that again. Not so true now.
The first time I heard about cutting was actually suicide prevention day. Ironic. The first time I self-harmed was that day. I didn’t cut, no, I scratched. With a stick. Lucky that my cat had always been a little mean. I remember the release it gave me. The great feeling.
A month later, I had unscrewed all my sharpeners, except one - one with two holes. I use that. People who borrow it get confused when one doesn’t work. ‘Why doesn’t your sharpener have a blade?’ Even the word blade made me flinch. ‘Oh.. it must have fell out. Sorry!’
When I realised I had some form of addiction, I told my best friend. She was shocked. SHe told me she’d take me to the counsellor. Guess what? nothing happened. Nothing at all.
-different topic-
Around 5 months ago was the first time I starved myself (other than for charity). It lasted like 1 day and a half. Not long. When I ate dinner after that, I immediately felt disgusted with myself. I went and threw it up. It was one of the worst days.
Since then, I’ve starved myself many more times and probably many more to come until I’m not fat.
-another topic-
I remember one day I hit rock bottom. I had fought with everyone at school, and I cried in class at the back. When I got changed for PE I hid in a stall and scraped at my shoulders with a razor. I cleaned it up and went back out, as if I was okay. Sport wasn’t enjoyable, you can imagine.
When I got home I shut my door behind me, and started bawling. Just crying, like a newborn. I started thinking of ways to kill myself, and honestly, I thought I was going to.
A couple of days later, I revisited that place. It was a Sunday, I remember, and I was sitting at the table, talking to a friend. The whole day I was planning my suicide, and I told this friend that I was.. going to, well, do it. Die. She freaked out and told her mum, who rang my mum. Mum gasped as she heard her say that i wanted to kill myself.
I got ushered into my room where my mother and I started crying in each others arms. She said she couldn’t bare the thought that I wanted to die. She said she’d get me help. Nothing yet.
...
I have a rather good memory what
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