I am just so fucking gone.
recovery is just stupid. and it sucks.
just a little bit drunk. as in very.
3 days ago on May 26, 2012 at 01:58am
Edit by Nikki
Good news though is that I am now on Day 52 of no cutting! So there is that.
1 week ago on May 20, 2012 at 02:17am
honestly what is the point of going through all of this trouble to stop cutting only to replace it with drinking? i am drinking so much lately i will be a full blown alcoholic in a matter of weeks i swear.
1 week ago on May 20, 2012 at 02:17am
Where is this from? Does anyone know?
(via a-cut-a-day)
(via stayingstronggg)
I want a Tumblr best friend. Reblog if I can go on your page and write stupid things in your ask box whenever I’d like to.
(via no-m0re-pain)
This is me and these are my scars. August 2010, on vacation, Greece.
I’m recovering from self harm and these are my scars. They’re there. They’re visible. They always will be and I know that. I can’t go back and undo my mistakes. I used to hide my scars, always. I used to be so ashamed, I felt so ugly and disgusted with myself. People who say self harmers do it for attention? You have no idea of how far we go to cover it up, to conceal the truth, to keep it a secret, to keep it from you.
I regretted my mistakes for years. You know what that does to you? It makes you bitter. It makes you sad. It makes you lonely and miserable. It makes you push people away because you’re so ashamed. Everything hurts. Breathing hurts, living hurts, existing hurts and what hurts the most - to go on. To keep breathing, to keep living.
But you know what? I’m still me. I always have been. My skin might be damaged and yes, it’s self inflicted - but what difference does it make? The people who love me, they love me for me. Flaws doesn’t make them love me any less. My scars are a part of me. My scars made me who I am. People who can’t handle that - they’re free to leave. Friends who left? I let them leave. If I’m not good enough for them because I cut, that’s not my loss.
That’s shallow. Everyone has flaws. Everyone has a story. If people want to judge me based on how I look, go ahead. Are you perfect? Are you sure about that? Have you never done anything in your life you wish you could go back and change? Are you flawless? Really?
Because I’m not, and I know that.
Day 14! I should feel really proud or something. But all I can think about is how freaked out I really am to think of the number getting bigger. It doesn’t seem attainable to have it get to something big like 100 or 300 or for me to get recovered to the point of not needing to keep track. But on the good side, I told myself when I made it to 14 I would get a tattoo at the beginning of May. So there is that.
1 month ago on April 14, 2012 at 09:59pm
If you’re a positive/inspirational/recovery blog, reblog this.
1 month ago on April 14, 2012 at 09:17pm
the hardest part of living alone is the silence of actually being alone. it reminds me how alone i really am and will be for a long time. it’s hard to make it through nights like these.
1 month ago on April 14, 2012 at 09:14pm
Living on my own is so hard. I love it half the time and completely hate it the next. It seems pointless. Livign this life just seems so pointless sometimes. It doesn’t feel like I am going anywhere or doing anything. Am I always going to be like this? Am I always going to be living in a crappy apartment in the shitty part of town? Am I always going to be working some stupid dead-end job that makes me feel like crap? It feels like it’s going to be like this forever. When I was younger I always used to dream about this time of my life, I thought it would feel free and rewarding to be on my own because I would be chasing a dream and doing what I love. But it’s not like that at all. It makes me feel alone and stuck.
1 month ago on April 10, 2012 at 10:54pm
(via letsplayroulette)
a ghost with a beating heart
I am very,very strong. So iron-boned and magic.
What, Why, When, How, Who? What, Why, When, How, Who? What, Why, When, How, Who?
What am I afraid of? Why can't I even want to get better? When am I me? How do I know that? Who would I be if I did what they want? How did I get like this?
