Latest Posts by xxsadist0nexx - Page 2

those posts always go around that are like “if you’re on Tumblr and you’re over 25 blah blah blah” but honestly if you’re on Tumblr and you’re under 25, I don’t know how the fuck you found this place. like I came here when it was actually kind of cool and then just never left because all my stuff was here. what’s your excuse

let’s talk about a ptsd thing that’s called sense of foreshortened future. i don’t see anyone ever talking about it here and i think that it’s important that people know that what they experience is nothing but another symptom of their mental illness.

So what is it?

Basically, sense of foreshortened future is a feeling or a belief that for some reason you won’t have a long and fullfilling life. You feel like you will die soon – or sooner than expected – and therefore you shouldn’t make any long-term plans. You try to avoid long-term relationships, you don’t have any career plans, reaching your birthday - hell, sometimes even managing to surivive the week surprises you. 

You feel like you’ll never have a normal life because you’re not only broken beyond repair but also can’t trust anyone anymore. It is an incredibly depressing feeling that makes you feel like there’s no point in… anything, really? Every activity becomes dull and pointless and you don’t know what drags you though life at this point.

I know it won;t make the feeling go away but I want you to know that this feeling is NOT a reflection of reality. You’re not broken beyond repair and you will have a normal happy life if you work on your recovery. making plans is not pointless. You deserve to be happy and you will be happy. Don’t let PTSD and its symptoms convince you otherwise.

Apparently it's not normal to have suicidal thoughts???? Like ever????? Apparently the average person doesn't think about killing themselves even once in their life????? What the fuck.

My body

This is my body.

All mine.

From the soles of my feet to the crown of my head

I own this.

And I can do, whatever I want with it

I can feed it, or starve it

I can nurture it, or let it waste away

I can hurt it, or protect it.

I struggle with that, I know which is the right choice, but sometimes I fail to make it. That is my burden to carry.

My choices will have consequences,

the scars may fade, but they will always be there,

on my body.

In the past, people have tried to take it from me,

claim it for their own.

grab it

use it

control it

But I will not allow that again.

No one will take my body from me.

Not again.

And if they try,

I’ll cut off their fingers, so they cannot grab me

their arms, so they cannot hold me

their legs, so they cannot chase after me

and their tongue, so that not even their words can touch me.

My body.

In the future, I may choose to offer my body to others

but I will do so with the knowledge that it is mine to give and refuse

that while I may let them touch it, it will always be mine.

This is my body.

I can do, whatever I want with it.

Do you still think about people from your past

Yes bitch, I’m traumatized

Hit a little too close to home

They don't think I need help, but I'm scaring myself.

damn it's been some time and blood looks much mire vibrantvtjan i remember

Ok but same.

sometimes i wish my scars on my left arm where much “worse”. Cause now my mom knows i sh and she would notice new scars. sh on other places never gives me the same release as on my left arm and I hate it.

Id give up all the world to go back, before I fucked everything up...

But now that you hate me..

And its over

I just wanna hold you.

..I gotta try to live with the mistakes i made..

And im having a hard time living with myself today.... 💔

Me: *intentionally cuts and massacres my legs for years with no problem*

Also me: *cuts finger open in a cheese grater and instantly faints*

This is what beauty to me is

I am-

(I am in no way saying that self harm is beautiful I just meant my body!)

Relatable

Honestly sometimes I miss what the self harm tag on tumblr used to be. It was always my way of keeping myself from cutting. Looking at pictures of self harm injuries somehow took that urge away.

I hit an artery and that shit was apparently crazy I just woke up, but I can't move my left hand or fingers and need surgery I guess that's what I get.

Tonight’s activities🍓

Fr bro

i never fucking asked to be here

And here I am crying 😃✨

biggest lie i ever told myself was that it’ll get better

If you have the audacity to be cruel to somebody with scars on their wrists then you’re a different kind of fucked up.

Do you read y/n fanfic based around someone finding about your illness/selfharm/disorder just so you can feel loved when you’re too afraid to ask for it from people in your life or are you normal?

Never tell someone who’s been through shit that others have had it worse. That will makes them feel like their feelings, emotions, illness, experiences/trauma, etc. aren’t valid or good enough. It will make them feel like they don’t have a right to feel the way the do. You can’t compare other people’s struggles, everyone has been through different things. everyone is a different person.

Whatever you are going through, whatever you’ve been through, it’s valid. You have a right to feel the way you do. You have every right. Don’t let someone else make you feel guilty for the things that you feel or have been through.

And most importantly, don’t let yourself convince you that your feelings aren’t valid and that you have no right. Everyone struggles with their own shit, don’t compare yourself to others.

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.

“i know you want to give up on yourself. i can feel it and that breaks my heart”

— 3am–overthinker

“Here’s to the ones who go to bed with tears in their eyes, and death in their minds.”

— The Poetic Boy

Same.

I keep finding myself missing those fresh streaks of scarlet lining my arms, feeling the warmth as I watch my blood ooze from my skin. I miss the healing cuts that turn different shades of red, brown, and purple. I miss the roughness of the scabs catching the fabric of my shirts, the twinge of pain that accompanied it. The soreness the day after a relapse, the sting when I wash them in the shower. The itch when the scabs start falling off showing the fresh new scars underneath.

I miss it, and yet I hate it. I hate it so much. I’m disgusting.

Andd this is why I cut myself off from everyone and no longer reply to messages :)

Friendships/relationships are exhausting, and I’m starting to wonder if its even worth it anymore. I’m the only one who tries anymore. I’m the only one sending the first text, I’m the only one who initiates hanging out, I’m the only one who cares. What’s even the point? 

Frrrrr

me at literally any minor inconvenience…

me: i want to kill myself

best friend: wtf?! why??

me: i spilled milk

best friend:…so clean it?

me: no, you don’t understand…i must die now

Yeah bro, I'm totally good! My heart just hurts, like all the time, ya know?