When I was 12, I sat in school, I was thrown out of class because I didn't feel like listening. So I walked down to the bus stop and as always, I had a lot of safety pins on my clothes. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, before I unfastened one of them, and began to cut into my skin. It didn't hurt in the beginning, but then I did it harder and it started bleeding. And I must confess; I loved it.
All the pain on the inside, disappeared. And that's where my addiction started. The day after I searched on the internet about it, how to make it hurt more. I started using razors.
A lot of shit happened and it got worse and worse. I ended up standing on a bridge, because my ex-girlfriend left me. But then I realised; Why killing myself because of such a bitch, who doesn't even love me? ( She hit me and broke my heart so many times in those eighteen months we were together )
And that's where I decided to stop it. Stop all the suicidal thoughts and the self-destructive behaviour. It's been.. About half a year ago. Four years of self-harm. I did it two times after I decided to stop, but I must admit; I'm truly proud.
A long fight and it left me very helpless, miserable and tense. It was so difficult for me, to see the razors as something I should cut myself with, but to shave my legs with. I can't describe it. Compare it to a drug-addict who has to stop pill-dropping.
When I'm lonely and my heart's aching, I still remember how the razor-blade cuts me and the blood flows down my arms or thighs. I can't say I'm 100% over it, but I resist the urge to do it, and I hope my will-power proceeds, so I one day can I look myself in the mirror and say; "Razors? I hate you and I will never think about you as my saviour. We're over! "
,,Then she closed her eyes
And found relief in a knife
The blood flows as she cries"
Ingen kommentarer:
Send en kommentar