7/11/19

So, yesterday, I accidentally cut myself

Trigger: suicide, self harm

I was downstairs by myself at midnight, making myself a snack because I hadn't had dinner and didn't want to go to sleep hungry.  I was using a knife and cut myself

So, I opened the cupboard where they usually are. I was looking around the cupboard, picking stuff up and looking at them. I picked up a blue box, and looked at them, and it was a box of paracetamol pills.

Ok, honestly, I haven't been having that great of a week. I feel like I'm always about to cry, my heart feels tight, my self harm has been... not good, let's just say that.

The thought of overdose came over me. I thought about it for a bit. I was downstairs alone. My parents had actually gone to sleep, they wouldn't find me till morning. I'm a pain to everyone, I lie to everyone, I disappoint everyone. Im scared of everything. It seemed like such an easy thing to just... leave this world.

The things stopping me was:
1. The fear of not knowing what happens after death
2. People I care about being sad about me gone
3. Not living long enough to experience/see/hear/feel so much that I want to

So, instead, guess what, i cut myself againnnn. To me, it feels as if the knife is always there for me in some kind of way. People might not notice my pain, the knife does. It's like, that person always ready to spread nasty, hurtful rumours about you. It's a stupid way of thinking, but it's my way, and I hate it.

I'm a terrible person, I'm so sorry