Self H@rm - Blog Posts
Trying to heal my wrist scars but I wanna cut so bad. I am way too scared it is too easy to find and my parents will see. I am on vacation and don’t have a blade so I can’t cut anyway. I think I might do thighs or hips for now on so it will be a lot easier to hide. Ugh but I know it won’t be as satisfying for me😭😭
old poem of mine
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I found another dead bird.
As I leaned down to touch its lifeless tail
(don’t worry, I washed my hands)
A man biked by, beer bottle in hand.
Riding past, he extended both arms
His wingspan swaying with the rhythm of pumping pedals.
My right arm has been itching
This might be a metaphor for self destruction.
I just don't know what the point of living is anymore, what's the point if my dad is still gonna be my dad till the day i die, if my family is still gonna be my family, if I'm never gonna be skinny,cis,straight or normal for fucks sake. This is it for me, I'm never leaving this country or this city and that fucking sucks
Scars//Stories
Scars tell stories
Stories of triumph,
Stories of losses.
They say so much,
Even though they lack a mouth.
Purposeful or accidental,
There's a story to tell.
The firey explosion of a tank,
Or an accidental hit with a toy,
Tell a story nonetheless.
Jagged or clean,
Faint or dark,
Risen up or dented down,
All have a
Story to Tell.
Surgical scars,
Ment to help the living.
Methodical scars,
Meant to harm
but not kill.
Self done,
Used as a means to escape.
What? You may ask,
Only the person could tell.
War scars tell
War stories
Stories of Triumph
And shame.
Gunshots, blades, burns,
All leave their marks.
Scars from play,
Are perhaps the most entertaining.
A fall in a playground,
A hit too hard with a plastic sword.
Leaves the owner laughing,
As they tell
The stories of their scars.
Scars tell stories,
So be careful when you ask.
Some scars hurt,
Long after they
Bled and Burned.
Some are ashamed
Of the marks on their bodies,
Others find pride in marred skin.
Scars tell stories,
So some prefer to hide.
Others want the scars to see light,
Because they wish for their stories to be known.
Scars tell stories,
So it's important to listen.
Scars have power over the owner,
And those around,
Some overcome the power,
Others still struggle against it.
But all the same,
Big or Small,
Shallow or Deep,
Scars tell Stories.
anyone want to be friends? I'm new here and i just want a friendly community :) psycho_roses is my discord
I hope I die in 2069 cause that would be a great joke.
Ya know, just like my life.
Love can be mastered. Days as they surpass each other love can grow where it never was. Though, the art of loving yourself is surely a hard seed to plant, grow or finally harvest.
Mirrors, they influence us into beings that burden us to be.
In this decorated room, my soul murmurs a prayer that at least this time, this manufactured happiness can last more than just a nights sleep and that I can forget all of myself without coming back the next day for another glassed antidote.
Permanent holes drilled by mirrors
Permanent Holes.
Mirrors lie, outlining shapes that mean nothing.
Mirrors horrify, penetrating into brains and forming unrealistic images.
Mirrors, they influence us into beings that burden us to be and after the energies put into the transformation
a deeper hole is drilled in us instead realizing that it needs not a mirror to clearly see our portraits leaving us as nothings and as people of no belonging.
@lifepath25
the little self in me whispers in this midnight abyss that I am not forgotten that I am alive that am a river and I can flow wherever I wish too. The little self in me whispers in this midnight abyss that there is a starlight that I have to look a little hard with huge amour-propre that only then will the starlight unvail its light onto the path that i must take out of the abyss.
the decision is always ours
You are a blossoming soul
life update
over the past few weeks a lot has happened that I haven't talked about on here. to sum it up there's this man that's been stalking me since November and my college is doing next to nothing about it.
ive been to a fuck ton of meetings about it and I had one today where someone finally took me seriously about how this guy is not a student but instead a guy that's old enough to be my father. he knows where I live and just stands across the Road or paces by the door waiting.
its creepy as fuck and has left me feeling unsafe and like im being watched all the time. im terrified of walking by myself and im jumpy no matter what.
my friends are mostly being people that I can lean on but just today a close friend of mine has told be to not keep them updated and that they don't care. it might be an extreme reaction, but when things like this happen I block their number for a bit to give people space and to take a step back.
I want to continue being active on Tumblr but everything is getting to me and im honestly this close to deleting all of my socials and not talking to anyone on my campus. this on top of my eating disorder is not going well at all. im In a constant state of binging and then purging it all from worry and then I starve for 3 days and then I repeat the fucking cycle all while going to classes and meetings with the head of our campus security. it wasn't until today that I fully told my boyfriend what's been going on because I didn't want to admit that im being stalked as that would make it seem more real.
this on top of the state of the us is making me really debate why im still here. I might have stopped being super suicidal, but the urge to slit my wrists is coming back super strong. ive even started writing in my old journal about it while also drawing out how I have been feeling in it.
everything is getting to be too much for me and I want it all to end immediately. I NEED it to end before I end it all once and for all guys.
COPING MECHANISMS
part two of ‘tears over beers'
you put too much effort into relationships and the girl you genuinely had feelings for broke your heart, even now after knowing about what she done, your friends still choose her over you.because of this you relapsed and lost yourself again.until one night three women find you in the woods about to take your life.
TRIGGER WARNING
self harm, suicide attempt, alcoholism, drug use, swearing, past relationship trauma, eating disorder, body dysphoria. (totally not writing just to vent..yes that's exactly what im doing)
Y/N’s pov <3
the next thing I know I am being gently rocked by an avenger.. a fucking avenger. I look up at her as the other two women stand up, brushing the mud off their clothing, and much to my dismay my headphones are took off of my ears and put around my neck, the music still blaring through.
The blonde one who I am assuming by the space cadet uniform is captain marvel states that she is going to make a phone call, the brunette haired girl, the red haired woman, the black widow nods at her colleague to do so as she looks down at me with pity. As Wanda Maximoff sits with her arms around me in a comforting manner as she holds a piece of cloth on my bloody arm.
“how did this happen, did someone attack you?” The former black widow questioned bluntly.
“Natasha stop.” Wanda says from behind me, her breath cold against my warm neck. the widows face stays the same blank stare as her gaze is glued to my arm.
the leaves from the autumn ground crunch as carol walks back over to us “Pietro said to take her back to the safe house” my eyes widen as I start to panic about being taken away for what I’ve done to myself, Wanda is a mind reader, by now she definitely knows I done this to myself. Natasha starts to grab all my stuff, throwing it into my backpack as Wanda helps me off the dusty floor.
“Can you do me a favour and hold this cloth to your arm, just until we get to the safe house so I can properly clean it?” Wanda asks with a sad smile “and while I clean it we can talk about it yes?” I silently nod, secretly knowing I will not be telling her anything.
“Cmon Wanda, stop wasting time” Natasha says as she grabs me by the shoulder and shoves me forward to walk. To this I try to run for it, at the same time, Wanda having already read my thoughts lifted one hand in the air and with red wisps of magic she whispers a meek “sorry detka” before putting me to sleep
-
my body shoots up from its sleeping state, I run my hands up and down my face in attempt to make sense of what happened. Upon removing my hands from my face I am faced with a new surrounding. A one I’ve never seen before. This makes me panic, I shoot out of the bed only to notice I’m not in my own clothing, I now sport a beige shirt and grey joggers bottoms. I walk out of the room to see a living room, the blonde and the redhead from earlier are playing some bored game on the table whilst a blonde haired man is sat on the sofa playing over watch on the Xbox, the first person to notice my presence is Wanda who walks over with a bottle of water, extending her arm out for me to take said water, I take it and thank her by nodding my head. “Where are we?” I say, voice groggy from whatever spell Wanda cast upon me, “come on, let’s go sit down and I’ll explain it to you love” Wanda states calmly as she guides me back to the room I woke up in. Upon sitting on the bed with Wanda I feel myself calm down. “oh shoot, wait here I forgot something” she says with a little bit of a sad smile as she runs out of the room, returning seconds later with a first aid box. She sits on the bed, throwing the box in between the both of us, she then opens it, grabbing the bandage “can I have your arm please” she says calmly. I slowly put my arm out for her to grab, she grabs a sterile wipe before gently patting the blood off my arm, whispering soft nothings into my ear as i whimper and whine about the pain, she eventually stops and water is now pouring from my eyes, she wipes the tears from my cheeks with her thumb “we’re nearly done now” she then grabs the bandage she got out before, she throws out the packaging and wraps my arm.
after being bandaged up and being allowed permission to go outside by carol, I sit on the balcony of the fancy safe house, I pull out a box of cigarettes, lighting them, taking a lot of draws from the tiny ‘cancer stick’ as my best friend would call it. I think back to days before. Me and my new friend group smoking in the smoking shelters of college, them comforting me silently as they continue to have their normal conversations while I tag along. Being broken out of my thoughts I feel a presence behind me “those will kill you” she says “so?” I blankly state back to her, not moving to look at her, she sits next to me. “I’m Carol” she states “I know the space cadet, yes?” I say with a hint of sarcasm in my voice, to this she laughs. Me and Carol sit on the balcony for a few hours, she seems cool but that doesn’t mean my walls will go down for her. Or anyone.
Hiiiiii guys, this is a part two,, suggested by @natashaswife4125 thankyou for asking for another part,, I hope this is good <3