My Sleeve Rolled Up, But Only For A Second. I Didnt Even Notice My Fresh Scars Were Showing. Suddenly
My sleeve rolled up, but only for a second. I didnt even notice my fresh scars were showing. Suddenly i feel my sleeve being pulled up. Its my "friend". She doesnt know i cut. Only 1 person knows. I just said it was my sisters cat. She didnt buy it. Other people start to join in, asking what really happened. Ive beeen keeping this secret for 2 years, and ill be damned if they find out now.
Eventually, they gave up on asking. That night, i cut a little too deep. A little too far down. My thighs were already covered in blood, so i moved on to my upper arms, so it could be covered with a tshirt. It started rolling up again and the next day, i felt that same terror as someone tried pulling up my sleeve without warning. I couldnt think. I was in a group of about 10 people, and i had a total breakdown. I blacked out, but luckily, my one friend was in that group and told everyone to just leave me alone. Thats why i love her so much. I know she'll always have my back, even though we havent talked about it in a year.
More Posts from Bubbles7724 and Others
Fuck right and wrong. I'm doing whatever makes me happy. Im going to stop thinking about what anyone else thinks of me and my actions.
- I am who I am. Deal with it.
I just wanna get away from it all, ya know?
Fuck... I thought we were past this.
I just feel like ill always be stuck. Stuck in the middle of a goodbye. Never feeling that pain, but never feeling that closure. Never feeling the certainty that somethings gone and is never coming back. I will always be frozen in this one time frame. Never wanting less, never having more. Im just stuck.
I still think we were meant to be, just not forever.
-My midnight thoughts.
What would happen if I finally did it:
They'll take one look at my body and one look at my arms and thighs and say, "this is the reason why"
They'll stop searching there. They'll say my parents were naive and the reason there were hundreds of horizontal lines running down my body was because I stopped trying. They'll assume that I lost sight of my future and what I had going for me.
I'll just end up being nothing more than a statistic and a "life that could have been"
Itll be fine though, because I'll finally be at peace.
Everyone will blame themselves and need everyone else's pity over the fact that they lost me when the truth is they never had me. I've had scars for years and they did nothing. I know some saw them. Some days I would cry out for help, and not for "attention" or whatever the boomers say. No. I slit my wrists so I could get help. They heard my cry, but they decided they knew everything and still left me to bleed.
They dont deserve to be pitied for my death. Not even because they caused it, or that they even could've prevented it, but that they didn't even try... they didnt care enough when I was alive, so why would they care now that I was gone?
Eventually, all will go back to normal. It's TRUE. They'll go back to their lives and barely even remember me as the girl who killed herself. They'll say it was because I was depressed. They'll look at my scars and cuts that never healed right, and think they have the whole story. You don't.
This might be proof someday. This might be what's considered a suicide note, but I'm not going to write a typical note. This might be all they find, if they even dig deep enough.
Most likely, They're gonna take one look at my body and say "this was gonna happen sooner or later" and think that's the end of that. But let me tell you:
You've barely scratched the surface.
No. See, things get so bad sometimes, and those scars are the reason I'm still alive. When I see the blood, dripping down my limbs, it's a reminder that my heart is still beating, and I still have a life to live.
It's not meant to be poetry. It's not meant to come out like a positive thing. As much as they help me to live and cope with the daily events of this life, they are what brought me so close to death so many times before. I suppose what they're gonna say about me is right, but that's only one piece to a very complex puzzle I hope to finish one day.
I hope to live so that one day, my scars can be faded to the point they're barely visible. I want them to be gone, but never forgotten. Because where I came from has everything to do with how I approach the rest of my life.
That is, if I choose to live that long.
it shouldn't be this hard... right?
I'm remembering shit I dont want to, and I'm feeling shit I dont want to.
I miss the stinging feeling. Even how days after i cut, it still stung if u touched it or moved the wrong way. I miss being distracted by the way the pain made me feel.
This guy told me the other day, "i think im gonna be depressed today" as if you can choose it. He doesnt know the first thing about it, because if he did, he would know that it chooses you.
- i really wish it was a choice
