This Is My Hand After Relapse For Everyone Wondering.

*goes from fine to actively suicidal in 30 seconds flat* 

hey, you

yes you

listen to me

you are worth it

you’re worth all the effort someone may have to put in

you’re worth the doctors visits and the copays

you’re worth late night phone calls and hugs when you fall apart

you’re worth whatever it takes

you’re worthy of life

i know you probably won’t believe me

but i swear to you it’s true

i love you

please please message me if you need anything

it doesn’t have to be me but reach out

someone can help

there’s always someone willing to help

and you deserve it

(':

Samee

haha so guess what i can’t go to the party on wednesday cause there’s already too many going so i’m just going to cry and cut myself all day bc i’m worthless trash that doesn’t deserve love hahahaha

I just want to be beautiful

Reblog if your SICK of these things:

FAT thighs

FAT stomach

FAT arms

FAT face

FAT hands

FAT calves

FAT knees

FAT hips

FAT EVERYTHING. 

I just want to be skinny…

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.