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Longest I’ve gone in a long time. But you gotta start somewhere, right?
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I hate how people throw the term “emo” around do loosely.
People always say it refers to people who self-harm, but the definition of emo isn’t “an individual who self-harms or has suicidal thoughts” and stuff like that. Emo is actually a style of music. And recently has evolved into a term used for a style. People associate the term emo with people who listen to screamo, and dress goth and scene, and if they dress like that people automatically assume they self-harm. However, that’s not true. While some people who dress that way may self-harm, people who dress preppy, or any other style as well. Self-harm knows no style. Please. Stop throwing that term around like you know what it means, you don’t.
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First time I ever cut deep on my hips. Some of that will definently be scarring. Wrists is so much better to cut on.
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Reblog this is if it is okay to come to you and just vent my heart out, cry to you, yell to you, or just chat with you. We are all in need of somebody to talk to.
(via aspire--to-inspire)
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Why am I so pissy, dad?
Maybe it’s because you have a problem with everything I say and everything I do. Maybe it’s because I’m tired because I can’t ever sleep for numerous reason. Maybe it’s because my legs, shoulders, and stomach ache from cutting. Maybe it’s because I hate life. But what do I tell you? “nothing.”
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Just overheard my night school teacher say “now you’re not gonna go cut your wrists with these scissors now right?” not cool dude. You’re a teacher, don’t joke about that shit. It’s not like you haven’t seen my scars. I mean you’re super cool and everything but shut up.
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I don’t know how much more I can take.
I’ve still been cutting but trying to cut back. I only make shallow cuts compared to what I used to make. But all I want is to cut deep and cut deep a lot. My eating habits are still shit and I puke after almost everything I eat. I used to puke after school lunch but now if I eat it I don’t because one of my friends always follows me into the bathroom. Now I can only cut when I’m at school cuz that’s not loud and it’s quick. I’m finding more stuff to cut with than just blades from disposable razors (pencil sharpener blades, Stanley blades) but I really want the sharp kind. The kind you can but in like packs of 10 that you manually put into razors? But idk if you have to be 18 to buy them. I’m too scared to find out. I guess I could steal them if I want. I want to cut deep again. I feel like my friendship with my best friend is going to shit. All I want is one of our nice long talks where we talk about everything, but she is always with her boyfriend (he’s the one that broke me and sent me into bulimia) or her other friends. She ditches me for both of them. I hate how she can still look at her boyfriend and not feel the hatred I do for him. I could never care about someone who ruined my friends life. Work started back up for me, and people have been staring at my scars. I know they judge me. I’d rather have them ask about why they’re there than silently judge. The play is over with so I don’t have a reason to not kill myself anymore. People at school make my life hell. This one kid throws shit at me every morning like Cheerios or crackers. The last day he did it it took all the power I had to not breakdown ad cry in the hallway because I am so sick of him. My parents watch me like a hawk because of when they found out I had done drugs and cut and had had sex. I feel like they know more than they should and I hate it since its my own life and I should be able to fuck it up if I want. My step mom had said she didn’t care I had sex, it’s my own body and I can do what I want. Well guess what? It’s the same for cutting and drugs too, bitch. If you don’t care, why am I punished for it? I can’t wait till I turn 18. I’m 16 and they won’t let me get my driver’s license because they don’t trust me anymore. Fuck off assholes. You’re making the cutting worse. I don’t just do it for shits and giggles, you’re a big part of it. Fuck. I’m just so done and so stressed. Life is shit. If I wanna kill myself they should just let me.
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Made my play director cry last night.
Last night was the last two performances of our play and after we had a cast party. I was already an emotional wreck because it was the end of it. At the cast party I went up to him and said “thank you for this wonderful play experience. It gave me the confidence I didn’t have that I needed. I’m sure you noticed the scars on my arms. This expierence gave the confidence to wear short sleeves again. Thank you, thank you so much.” I was crying and he was crying, it was really just a cry fest. And then he told me that I was like the third person who has ever said anything like that to him. And that people told him that they were thinking of committing suicide until they got into theatre. He saved my life, because I too, had thought about committing suicide, but theatre gave me a reason to live. Mr. Hamre, thank you.
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My dad is such a dick.
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Today at play practice my friend called me a whore.
Honestly, it hurt. I know she was kidding, but it still hurts when people say it because people I don’t even talk to call me a whore and a slut and stuff. I guess adding “whore” to list of words carved in on my stomach wouldn’t hurt. I try to stay strong but sometimes even the strongest people break…
