Self hate. A force which is underestimated.

Imagine that for years of your life you have been told you are worthless, useless, pathetic, fat, ugly, evil, stupid and you deserve nothing in life, that anything you have earned was mere luck because you do not deserve an ounce of success because you are a waste of organs.
Imagine this voice is yourself.

You look in a mirror and you see nothing but flaws and the reflection disgusts you and knocks you sick to the pit of your stomach, you spit at your reflection and you scream abuse at it because words cannot describe how much you utterly despise it. You may even cut burn, bruise, do anything to harm this vile reflection because it’s not changing.

You speak and you hear nothing but pure stupidity and utter ridiculousness. You curse yourself mentally, questioning why you even speak because everyone is thinking what a failure you are. Your opinion counts for nothing and you will never amount to anything. 

How can we succeed at anything if we continue to think like this? Somehow, we need to stop. With therapy I’m realising that all these things I have thought in my head since I was 8, aren’t normal. My self hatred has held me back all my life and I’m making a pact right now to stop, and I want everyone who bothers to read this to join me. Will you? Please?

Wise words

Self harm is addicting.

Happy birthday to me.

When the clock ticks midnight to the date 10th of August, I’ll be 18.
The best present my mum could give me would be permission to cut. It would fix a few problems. Maybe I’ll wish for it when I blow out my candles.

I’m sick of it.

I’m sick of fighting you, depression. You fucking win, I can’t cope with you any more.

And don’t we all know it. **possible trigger**

I don’t just mean this for cuts, this is for all self harm: burning,  bruising, wrist banging, skin picking, hair pulling, head smackers, anything. It’s difficult to stop, try not to start.

Has it really changed?

I’m watching a film made and set in the year 2000, the statistics for self harmers then was one in 200 teens.
Now it’s one in 6.
Have times really changed? Or did we just get worse at hiding it?

It’s like a roller coaster.

Having depression is like a roller coaster. A really crappy one, you either feel like staying in bed all day because there’s nothing worth moving for and nothing seems worth any effort, or there is days when you get out of bed and attempt to face the world in all it’s shit glory. And you never know which day is.going to be which.
When does the ride stop? Because I want to get off.

But it’s not that easy.

I think everyone has felt like this at one point. 
But you wouldn’t be free. Your parents, your friends, family, anyone who ever met you would not be free. Everyone would search for a way to blame themselves. Nothing would ever be the same again.
One step…..and the worst part begins.

I’m a screw up.

I haven’t cut in 119 days and I can feel myself slipping back into a relapse, and the worst part is…I’m looking forward to it.
I’m such a stupid, evil, horrible, useless little screw up.