Self harm is a topic that people prefer not to talk about. It's a horrible thing to do to yourself and the only gain from doing it is ultimately scars. But if people took the time to talk about it to the person, then from my experience, it helps as you may be able to understand.
Self harm is a very stupid thing to do. It may not feel like that at the time, but in reflection you'll regret it. And let me tell you, you'll have missed out on so many opportunities and experiences that it is so not worth it.
I'm not going to write this as a list of reasons why not to do it. But if you are someone who self harms or you know someone who does, perhaps you have done it, maybe you are a really bored person with nothing to do, but self harm goes so deep into a persons mind that you're not going to be able to stop it just with a click of your fingers.
People self harm for different reasons. I self harmed because of what was going on in my head. And when you self harm, you are selfish. You don't see how it effects others, you don't really see their pain. You are so blind in your own self pity that you don't really see what's going on around you. Or at least I didn't. Well, not until I looked back.
Another reason why people self harm is because it is a coping mechanism. It helps them cope with what is going on in their life, whether it be depression, family issues, grief, confusion or anything else they are having a hard time dealing with. They run from what is going on. Then when they try to stop harming themselves, they can't. They become dependant on it. And they can't, or find it difficult to stop as they are so used to coping in that way.
Looking back on what I did, I see the bigger picture. But what is more heart breaking, is that someone else in my life is hurting themselves deliberately. It may have started of a way of coping with the death of his mother and the stress of a busy job, but it has now become an illness. And I hate him for it.
This man, he drinks so much. He is hurting himself and he has forgotten why. He forgets things. He forgets who we are, what he's done and why he did it. He forgets who he is. He lets the alcohol take over. Sometimes he is so lost, we don't see him for weeks. He is addicted and this illness is ruining him.
He is such a nice man. He has a big heart and is a fantastic man. He is excellent at his job and loves us. He helps people for a living. He is funny and caring. He would never hurt a fly.
But when he drinks that changes. He is hurting himself. Again and again and again.
Self harm is nothing to be proud of. It messes with your head. It has so many risks. Infection, death, losing people you care about. It is not something you should ever do. You should never burn, or cut or hurt yourself in anyway. It breaks you and everyone around you.
The long sleeves in summer and the scars that stay there for a long time afterwards. It's not fun. There is always a better way of finding a way through things.
Life is beautiful! Self harm ruins it. Do you want to ruin your life? Do you want to ruin others? Don't self harm. Life is so good! It is beautiful! Don't be stupid and ever do something you'll regret.
Things can only get better!
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
Monday, 9 September 2013
Suicide Note...
First I just want to say how sorry I am. I love you so dearly and I know it's selfish to do this to you. But that's what suicide is isn't it? Selfish?
It's a cowards way out. And a coward I am clearly for running and running away from everything and never stopping to face it. A coward is scared. And I'm scared. That makes me a selfish coward.
So, why am I taking my own life? I'm doing it because I love you and I don't want you to get hurt my me.I cut myself, I hurt myself. And it's clear that it's hurting you. You think I'm better, or getting better, but that's not true. Deep inside I'm so empty. The heavy fog of depression is covering everything and I can barely breath without feeling like I'm going to choke and die. I'm in so much pain inside but I'm also so empty. I love you. Remember that!
Every day I wake up and it takes so much effort to get up of the floor and carry out my day. I cry. I feel numb. I've made a fool out of my self. I can't take it any longer. I want to close my eyes and never have to see any of this again.
I'm worthless and ugly. I'm an attention seeking bitch! I'm horrid and stupid! I just want to die. More than ever now. I really can't take much more of myself. And you'll read this and think 'why didn't you speak to me? I could have helped you!', but the truth is... I'm beyond help. I just want to die. This world hurts.
It's not your fault. There is nothing you could have done. And when I close my eyes for the last time, I'll think of you. I'll use my last breath to pray for you. And I hope you live a wonderful life, I'm sorry I couldn't be there to watch it. It's not your fault. Remember that. You did everything you could have.
I'm so sorry I had to do this to you. But there is no other choice. I can't ever see this getting better.
Most people kill themself because of depression... guess what? I'm not normal and that's why! I may have depression, but it's to late now. I'm ready to die. I'm just sorry the rest of you aren't ready for me to die.
I love you.
Xxx
And that was the suicide note I wrote in December 2012 Probably should have mentioned that at the beginning, but having just found it... to be honest I don't know what I was thinking. But as depressing as that was to read and type, it shows just how much my life has changed since then. Almost a year ago. Ahh. Life is amazing! And I'm so glad I'm still alive! Loving Life!
Monday, 2 September 2013
Trying to Die…
The last time I tried to die, I almost lost everything and ended up hurting the people who I care about . I cut my arms and legs and I was going to hang myself. That was over a month ago. And I am telling you one thing, never again. Because of my selfishness, not only did I nearly loose my life, but I almost lost my friends. My friends who cared and tried to help me so much. I love you guys.
When I cut myself, it feels like all the tension inside my head is being released. It runs out of my veins in a red river. It's a big tangled ball of yarn that is a bright, shining, glaring white. The sort of white you'd imagine an angel of God's to have. It's glaring. And the only way to dull it, or so it seemed, was to add a bright, bright hot pink to it- the colour if pain.
Pain is like the hottest hot pink you have ever seen, but intensified by a thousand times. It's horrible and bright. Just something with a flicker of that colour in is enough to make me want to throw up and at the very least, curl up in a ball and shut off every connection to the world.
But when it's mixed with the glaring, bright, sterile white of tension, it clouds everything in a cloudy haze of pink and it becomes bearable. It's almost like sacrificial protection. It stays in place untill the tension inside your mind grows so huge that the pink is worn away and you have to start over again. And mix that with the pink-grey hue fog of depression and it seems never ending.
This is that evening:
So, you feel so rubbish, stressed, upset and angry with every part of your self. You've put on the smallest amount of weight, and at that point in time, you want to die, to not feel what was going on inside and to find away out of this never ending circle of colours...
You cut yourself. All up your shoulder and on both legs. And as horrible has it may seem, but watching everything bad run out in your blood, it was, it should have been, magnificent. But it wasn't!
You feel so bad that you've let your friends down. Especially after all the hard work, time and everything they'd put in. And knowing that they would be angry, upset, disappointed and let down was the worst feeling you have ever experience. Ever!
It was like a deep yellowish-brown explosion that started in your heart and slowly rotted outwards, and at the very edges it was a burnt brown. And just before that it was a green-brown sludge. Every inch you feels like a thick, mouldy, sludge.
Then the tears hit.
Sadness rushes over you, but only mixes with this sludge of an emotion. So what comes next?
Sitting on your bedroom floor, you make a noose. But then the colour of everyone's voices rush over you. And you see them at their happiest- a hint of silver at the edges of them. Framing them. Making them look even more beautiful. And then you see all their voices again. This time they are the frame for the blue-grey wash of sadness which in some cases turns to depression. And then you think: 'I can't do this! It's not right!' And you unknot the noose and talk to a friend.
They are clearly disappointed and they can't help you. You deserve this. They have every right to not want to help. But he stays online as late as he can to talk to you. But because he can't help, you have to text the one person who you didn't want to because you think that if he found out that you'd done it again you'd loose his friendship...
The next day you are so depressed. You don't want to move. You just want to lie there. You don't want to have to fave the people you've let down. You still feel like sludge. But begrudgingly, you drag yourself out of bed and get ready for school. And instantly, from the first look he gives you, you know you have most probably lost a best mate. And you deserve it.
So, you think you've lost him. This guy with the most beautiful voice in the world. You think he hates your guts. But somewhere deep down inside, he has found something and is still talking to you. He doesn't trust you. But at least you haven't lost him. You don't ever want to loose him because he is such as good friend and has done so much for you.
But because of what you have done, you feel so much yellow guilt and you are just hoping that over the summer you can change. You can pull yourself together. Because you have seen how close you have come to losing your life and to losing those people who mean the most to you.
I am so sorry to all of you!
When I cut myself, it feels like all the tension inside my head is being released. It runs out of my veins in a red river. It's a big tangled ball of yarn that is a bright, shining, glaring white. The sort of white you'd imagine an angel of God's to have. It's glaring. And the only way to dull it, or so it seemed, was to add a bright, bright hot pink to it- the colour if pain.
Pain is like the hottest hot pink you have ever seen, but intensified by a thousand times. It's horrible and bright. Just something with a flicker of that colour in is enough to make me want to throw up and at the very least, curl up in a ball and shut off every connection to the world.
But when it's mixed with the glaring, bright, sterile white of tension, it clouds everything in a cloudy haze of pink and it becomes bearable. It's almost like sacrificial protection. It stays in place untill the tension inside your mind grows so huge that the pink is worn away and you have to start over again. And mix that with the pink-grey hue fog of depression and it seems never ending.
This is that evening:
So, you feel so rubbish, stressed, upset and angry with every part of your self. You've put on the smallest amount of weight, and at that point in time, you want to die, to not feel what was going on inside and to find away out of this never ending circle of colours...
You cut yourself. All up your shoulder and on both legs. And as horrible has it may seem, but watching everything bad run out in your blood, it was, it should have been, magnificent. But it wasn't!
You feel so bad that you've let your friends down. Especially after all the hard work, time and everything they'd put in. And knowing that they would be angry, upset, disappointed and let down was the worst feeling you have ever experience. Ever!
It was like a deep yellowish-brown explosion that started in your heart and slowly rotted outwards, and at the very edges it was a burnt brown. And just before that it was a green-brown sludge. Every inch you feels like a thick, mouldy, sludge.
Then the tears hit.
Sadness rushes over you, but only mixes with this sludge of an emotion. So what comes next?
Sitting on your bedroom floor, you make a noose. But then the colour of everyone's voices rush over you. And you see them at their happiest- a hint of silver at the edges of them. Framing them. Making them look even more beautiful. And then you see all their voices again. This time they are the frame for the blue-grey wash of sadness which in some cases turns to depression. And then you think: 'I can't do this! It's not right!' And you unknot the noose and talk to a friend.
They are clearly disappointed and they can't help you. You deserve this. They have every right to not want to help. But he stays online as late as he can to talk to you. But because he can't help, you have to text the one person who you didn't want to because you think that if he found out that you'd done it again you'd loose his friendship...
The next day you are so depressed. You don't want to move. You just want to lie there. You don't want to have to fave the people you've let down. You still feel like sludge. But begrudgingly, you drag yourself out of bed and get ready for school. And instantly, from the first look he gives you, you know you have most probably lost a best mate. And you deserve it.
So, you think you've lost him. This guy with the most beautiful voice in the world. You think he hates your guts. But somewhere deep down inside, he has found something and is still talking to you. He doesn't trust you. But at least you haven't lost him. You don't ever want to loose him because he is such as good friend and has done so much for you.
But because of what you have done, you feel so much yellow guilt and you are just hoping that over the summer you can change. You can pull yourself together. Because you have seen how close you have come to losing your life and to losing those people who mean the most to you.
I am so sorry to all of you!
Friday, 30 August 2013
Conflicting Minds
Depression is a word which is thrown around loosely. Feeling sad is extremely different to feeling depressed.
Sadness is a light grey-blue. Like the colour of a spring sky that is covered by a light blanket of rain clouds. Sadness is lukewarm and its shape has fluffy edges.
Depression, on the other hand, is a dark, dark grey with an obvious pink tinge when you look for it. The pink is a slightly brighter, more pink shade of pink that you get in a summer sun set. Pink means pain. Nothing changes that fact. And the greys are always going to be in the bottom half of the spectrum.
So, why am I writing about depression? For me, it has played an enormous part in my life for the past three years. And it made me hate this gift so much that I would have done anything to get rid of it. And the sad part is: over the past three years, I have tried to kill myself so many times. Just to get rid of the colours.
The fog of depression hung over me for such a long time, I began to truly hate everything about me and I wished to be normal or dead. Preferably dead.
Hiding these feelings from the people around me was always challenging. I'm not going to lie and say that they were with me solidly. I'd go through such incredible highs and then I'd dive into a spiralling low. This was what made it challenging.
It was easiest to show the high all the time. That way people wouldn't know what was going on inside. The biggest and most obvious flaw was the fact that when I didn't have the energy to up hold the façade, or I simply couldn't be bothered; people would notice it because it was so incredibly 'out of character'.
Recently, I've been in the worst spiral of depression yet. It started in mid November.
During this time, I tried to kill myself several times and I am not proud of that fact, but I am so incredibly thankful that I failed.
The last four months have most positively been the worst. It became apparent to me that not everyone sees the colours that I do, and that yes, it's not 'normal' but it is a truly amazing thing to have. The people closest to me began to know about the colours. And their support and loyalty was so fantastic; I would not be here without them. Literally!
The support and loyalty they showed me gave me a new colour: Hope.
Hope is a beautiful, deep, rich indigo- slightly heavier on the purple side. Its warm and like an old favourite jumper that you wear on cold, snowy evenings whilst sitting in bed with your favourite book in the world and a hot chocolate. The feeling of it is so warm and perfect that you don't want it to ever fade. It is truly magical.
But even now, and even on the fabulous days, my mind is constantly fighting with itself. I want to die. I want to feel the beautiful turquoise feeling of starvation. I want to cover myself in the bright, hot pink colour of pain as I watch my blood run. But I also want to live and see everyone grow into fantastical humans. I want to be a world class athlete. I don't want the scars.
This is the down side to the colours: Sometimes the most beautiful colours are the ones that you can't have because they are dangerous to you. The turquoise of starvation is the third most beautiful colour I have ever seen, and yet nobody quotes understand that the months I spend starving myself are just to see the colour and are in the vain hope that the colour will stay with me if I get to a point where my body is constantly feeling the turquoise. And it's no secret that what I see in the mirror is a whole load of weight that can be lost.
The constant internal bickering between the two sides in my head won't go away. This fight won't end any time soon. It is going to stay with me for the rest of my life. It is part of me. The colours. The highs. The lows. The conflicting halves of my mind will never go.
Without being able to physically see hope, I honestly don't think I'd be here. I have the most fantastic mates in the world who made me see how lucky I am, and showed me that life is a truly marvellous thing!!
Thank you!!
Sadness is a light grey-blue. Like the colour of a spring sky that is covered by a light blanket of rain clouds. Sadness is lukewarm and its shape has fluffy edges.
Depression, on the other hand, is a dark, dark grey with an obvious pink tinge when you look for it. The pink is a slightly brighter, more pink shade of pink that you get in a summer sun set. Pink means pain. Nothing changes that fact. And the greys are always going to be in the bottom half of the spectrum.
So, why am I writing about depression? For me, it has played an enormous part in my life for the past three years. And it made me hate this gift so much that I would have done anything to get rid of it. And the sad part is: over the past three years, I have tried to kill myself so many times. Just to get rid of the colours.
The fog of depression hung over me for such a long time, I began to truly hate everything about me and I wished to be normal or dead. Preferably dead.
Hiding these feelings from the people around me was always challenging. I'm not going to lie and say that they were with me solidly. I'd go through such incredible highs and then I'd dive into a spiralling low. This was what made it challenging.
It was easiest to show the high all the time. That way people wouldn't know what was going on inside. The biggest and most obvious flaw was the fact that when I didn't have the energy to up hold the façade, or I simply couldn't be bothered; people would notice it because it was so incredibly 'out of character'.
Recently, I've been in the worst spiral of depression yet. It started in mid November.
During this time, I tried to kill myself several times and I am not proud of that fact, but I am so incredibly thankful that I failed.
The last four months have most positively been the worst. It became apparent to me that not everyone sees the colours that I do, and that yes, it's not 'normal' but it is a truly amazing thing to have. The people closest to me began to know about the colours. And their support and loyalty was so fantastic; I would not be here without them. Literally!
The support and loyalty they showed me gave me a new colour: Hope.
Hope is a beautiful, deep, rich indigo- slightly heavier on the purple side. Its warm and like an old favourite jumper that you wear on cold, snowy evenings whilst sitting in bed with your favourite book in the world and a hot chocolate. The feeling of it is so warm and perfect that you don't want it to ever fade. It is truly magical.
But even now, and even on the fabulous days, my mind is constantly fighting with itself. I want to die. I want to feel the beautiful turquoise feeling of starvation. I want to cover myself in the bright, hot pink colour of pain as I watch my blood run. But I also want to live and see everyone grow into fantastical humans. I want to be a world class athlete. I don't want the scars.
This is the down side to the colours: Sometimes the most beautiful colours are the ones that you can't have because they are dangerous to you. The turquoise of starvation is the third most beautiful colour I have ever seen, and yet nobody quotes understand that the months I spend starving myself are just to see the colour and are in the vain hope that the colour will stay with me if I get to a point where my body is constantly feeling the turquoise. And it's no secret that what I see in the mirror is a whole load of weight that can be lost.
The constant internal bickering between the two sides in my head won't go away. This fight won't end any time soon. It is going to stay with me for the rest of my life. It is part of me. The colours. The highs. The lows. The conflicting halves of my mind will never go.
Without being able to physically see hope, I honestly don't think I'd be here. I have the most fantastic mates in the world who made me see how lucky I am, and showed me that life is a truly marvellous thing!!
Thank you!!
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