Selfharm - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
If those are supposed to be the best years of my life then I dont don't wanna know what comes next
I hurt myself again, today...
I'm not stressed, just.... so freakingly numb it's difficult to handle.
Reasons why I did not kill myself two weeks ago:
• this 1% in me that wants to live is bigger than the 99% that want to die
• my grandmother does not deserve this
• I love my pets and just any animal in general
• New music that shows me that this world is maybe not entirely doomed
• Old music that still touches my heart
• I still have to know who will get to sit on the Iron Throne
• Waiting for the new season of Game of Thrones, Vikings, OITNB, Bojack Horseman and so many more
• New movies, new music, new books; simply new art
• Travelling and being in places that I’ve never been before
• All this new clothes in my closet I still want to wear
• The chance to make someone else smile
• The first coffee after waking up that touches my soul
• Good food
• Buying something I wanted to buy for a long time
• I want to see my favourite band at least one last time in concert
• I’ve been waiting for their new album for almost 9 years
• I simply could not do it
• This ridiculous 1% which is stronger than 99%
my thigh when im ever inconvenienced even just a little bit
//||\\\X|/|\\||x
TW: s/h (no pictures) block don't report!!!
I just got so angry and overwhelmed at everything and took it out on my thighs and now I feel better so Idk why everyone in my life says it's not effective?😭
How could people hate cats???
They’re so cute and adorable and warm and sweet!
My cat, for example, is so so so so so sweet! She cuddles me whenever I’m feeling down, she loves listening to My Chemical Romance and Black Veil Brides with me. And when I was super depressed and self harming she would meow at me to get my attention and head-but me and sometimes nip at me to stop!😭😭😭
I love her so much!!!
Milton has tons of self harm scars
Harry Styles: Stoic - Foreword (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/zcCrBuLaFG People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend... -Jim Morrison "WHY WON'T YOU LET ME LOVE YOU?!" Harry screams, tears profusely running down his slightly indented cheeks, falling and gathering into small pools in the small indents of his clavicles and moistening the ends of his long brown hair. "Why won't you let me touch you.... caress you? Why?" he says his husky voice now barely audible and cracking from crying. I remain silent and stoic which by the way I've gotten pretty good at over the years. I never, I mean never ever express emotion because it shows weakness and vulnerability and only the strong survives in this cruel, corrupt, condemned, and so-called world I live in. My facade was particularly built on that." Ebony please.. Talk to me... say something...PLEASE!" Harry cries and pleads desperately. I continue to stare impassively at the door behind him not daring to make eye contact. Right now the idea of making a run for it all the way home and then locking myself in a room from feeling the guilt that I deserved, with just me and my very much appreciated friend, my blade, seems very appeasing to me. Subconsciously, I slip both hands in my pockets just to make sure it was still safely stored in my hoodie's pocket. Running the rough pad of my index fingertip along the edge of the blade, I release a soft and inaudible sigh of content as I feel it slightly slice through the calloused layer of skin. The pain feels so good. Pain is what has kept me alive all of these years. Pain makes me feel... real....
Harry Styles: Stoic - Foreword (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/hGFwlOSaFG People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend... -Jim Morrison "WHY WON'T YOU LET ME LOVE YOU?!" Harry screams, tears profusely running down his slightly indented cheeks, falling and gathering into small pools in the small indents of his clavicles and moistening the ends of his long brown hair. "Why won't you let me touch you.... caress you? Why?" he says his husky voice now barely audible and cracking from crying. I remain silent and stoic which by the way I've gotten pretty good at over the years. I never, I mean never ever express emotion because it shows weakness and vulnerability and only the strong survives in this cruel, corrupt, condemned, and so-called world I live in. My facade was particularly built on that." Ebony please.. Talk to me... say something...PLEASE!" Harry cries and pleads desperately. I continue to stare impassively at the door behind him not daring to make eye contact. Right now the idea of making a run for it all the way home and then locking myself in a room from feeling the guilt that I deserved, with just me and my very much appreciated friend, my blade, seems very appeasing to me. Subconsciously, I slip both hands in my pockets just to make sure it was still safely stored in my hoodie's pocket. Running the rough pad of my index fingertip along the edge of the blade, I release a soft and inaudible sigh of content as I feel it slightly slice through the calloused layer of skin. The pain feels so good. Pain is what has kept me alive all of these years. Pain makes me feel... real....