These urges to cover myself in scars and bloody, crusty red lines.
I ran my fingers along my arm, imagining feeling scabs turning into scars.
This. Is. Not. Fucking. Normal. To want to cover my entire body with lines and not give a shit about what people thought.
How can people go YEARS without discovery? Why does my mother stick her nose in my business?
I want out of fucking therapy.
I want summer to end.
I want to go back to blue jeans soaking up blood.
I want my razor back.
I want a new, sharp razor.
I want a razor to slice through my skin.
I want to watch my blood drip down.
I want to see as it beeds up along each red line.
I want you to stop fucking showering me in your triggering photos.
Certain person is still sending you those pictures?
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That's like....harassment tantamount to stalking.
That's just plain WRONG.
Have you outright confronted person about it? You should. Everyone deserves to not have their privacy bubble invaded.
I'm not sending you pictures. Just hide me from your newsfeed if they're so damn triggering.
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