AkaRed
Come on! Let’s go, we’ll make our future together.
- Apr 20, 2023
- 216
I don't even know if I want to recover. I can't tell. I have zero desire to throw away my blades, or drop smoking. I want to let myself sink further, and push a little more until I can take the next step.
I'm the opposite to a lot of people here in that I'm quite open about my mental struggles. I can flash my cut arm at someone and talk about it like it's any other hobby. Does it freak the fuck out of people? Yeah, but I kind of want it to.
Because I know they'll forget about it in literally a matter of hours.
It's not like I can blame them either. It's not their responsibility to stay permanently worried about my existence or anything- but it always leaves me in this state of loneliness.
Because at the end of the day? I am absolutely nothing but temporary.
Whether it be now or in 80+ years. I really hope it isn't the latter sometimes.
I'm going to cut again. Probably soon- and on my leg this time. But unlike before, I won't say anything. I'll let it silently build up, just bide my time and give into any minor urges I have. It's not like it's hard to hide. Nobody will notice a single thing, because they stop looking so soon after. Even though they KNOW I'm struggling. That I'm tearing myself apart. If I don't shove it in their faces, they don't actually care. It's all such a damn lie.
I'm the opposite to a lot of people here in that I'm quite open about my mental struggles. I can flash my cut arm at someone and talk about it like it's any other hobby. Does it freak the fuck out of people? Yeah, but I kind of want it to.
Because I know they'll forget about it in literally a matter of hours.
It's not like I can blame them either. It's not their responsibility to stay permanently worried about my existence or anything- but it always leaves me in this state of loneliness.
Because at the end of the day? I am absolutely nothing but temporary.
Whether it be now or in 80+ years. I really hope it isn't the latter sometimes.
I'm going to cut again. Probably soon- and on my leg this time. But unlike before, I won't say anything. I'll let it silently build up, just bide my time and give into any minor urges I have. It's not like it's hard to hide. Nobody will notice a single thing, because they stop looking so soon after. Even though they KNOW I'm struggling. That I'm tearing myself apart. If I don't shove it in their faces, they don't actually care. It's all such a damn lie.