I didn't write for a while there did I?
So, today is a day. Obviously. And I'm trying to decide whether to
cry, or scream, or laugh, or whatever.
You see, I got a little upset one day and I felt the urge to drain
away the sorrow.
Yeah, yeah. I know what you're thinking. Just hear me out first, then
tell me how stupid and wrong I am. You might listen more than my flesh
and bone friends.
So I was pissed that whatever I seemed to do was wrong:
I couldn't get my homework assignments in on time
I couldn't talk to my friends because they were all angry
I couldn't talk to my family because they write me off after my other
I couldn't scream because there was no where TO scream.
I couldn't cry because that doesn't solve anything.
So on so forth.
Well, I was taking a shower and the razor fell into the tub. I know I
know. It's a terrible thing to do, but I just wanted to see if it
would offer me the same release.
And unfortunately, it did.
So I closed my eyes reveling in the feel of the slice. And it felt so
good. But when I opened my eyes I found that there were a whole lot
more on my shoulder.
I freaked. I couldn't leave the razor because my hands wouldn't let
me, and I couldn't keep it because my mind was telling me that this
Now into some details that had led up to this point.
I had a somewhat boyfriend. It wasn't official, but it was in the
sense that we were acting like it, just without the title.
And he texted me saying that he loved me. And then he turns around the
same day between third and fourth and says that he just wanted to be
This I can handle. Trust me. That's no problem.
What is, is when he no longer talks to me. Or gives me the slightest
glance. Or gives me a hug (they are important to me).
This is what angered me. Oh but it doesn't stop there. Oh no.
He got a girlfriend. And all of my friends say that he had to be
hanging with her like that since before we broke up.
Well, whatever, but now he's not around. And he was a really good friend.
So I play it like it's cool and then...it hits.
He contacts me on messenger and starts chatting with me. Like he can
talk online, but in public it turns him into a menace.
So yeah. I cut. And then I never used the blade again. I still have it
though. Because I can't part with it, but I can't bare to use it again.
After that I was writing in a journal that I keep on my person. I like
to know that I can write things and not worry about them because they
look like assignments that I might need to turn in. And I can claim as
Well he figured it out somehow and now he's all on a trip that he's
just like me and that I'm a coward. And that because I found a release
once in my life I will always have the urge to do it again.
And I will. No doubt about that. But he has no right to say that. He
doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does. He thinks that just
because his teachers hated him his life was horrible.
My own family hates me. How do you cope with something like that?
You distract yourself. You find ways to make it seem like you're in
I've also burned with ice. Like with the salt. That was just a test
though. To see what it actually does. Because the stupid cameras
online don't work, so you gotta see for yourself.
Or at least I did.
So I did. Not long, and not big. Just a small mark that'll fade in
about a week or so.
But now this guy is all saying that I'm a horrible person. And that
I'm not doing anything right.
He told me that he's disappointed in me.
Like I care anymore.
Then you'll never guess what he did.
He said that if I kept thinking the way that I am that he's done. And
then he went offline.
Whatever. Cause I'm going to change me for you. Isn't that what you
didn't want? For me to take to heart the things that people said?
I'm just upset that he doesn't have the balls to talk to me in person,
but as soon as we're online we're best pals.
It gets better though. Cause he's got friends that cut more than three
times a day. And they cut over their heart, and on their wrists, and
ankles, and on their necks, and stuff like that. And they cut WAY
deeper than I did.
I didn't even get blood.
And he's not talking to me, but he'll talk to them just like
everything is totally fine.
That's bull shit. And he knows it.
I know I'm not perfect. I'm not justifying anything I've done. If
you've done anything like this I think that there is a trigger and
that you do need to get help. Maybe not from someone else though. Use
your resources. You're smart. You figure it out.
It's not justified. It's wrong I know. Believe me I know. But there
are things that I understand better than most other people. And that's
that you do things for a reason. And you need a friend, not a fight.
Goodnight everyone. I'm don't complaining,