(no subject)
Apparently three years of therapy hasn't been able to stop me self-harming.
I was doing so fucking good; my scars were fading, I was able to shave without mutilating my body, I didn't feel the need to bleed in order to feel better. But now, it's all I can fucking think about. I am totally consumed by my reckless lifestyle. I don't really care though, and evidently, neither does anybody else.
My mind is like a stuck record: STARVE, SMOKE, CUT, STARVE, SMOKE, CUT, STARVE, SMOKE, CUT, CRY, CRY, CRY, STARVE, SMOKE, CUT.
I guess I just feel.... overwhelmed by intense feelings of loneliness and self-loathing.
This post is erratic and doesn't make much sense.
I was doing so fucking good; my scars were fading, I was able to shave without mutilating my body, I didn't feel the need to bleed in order to feel better. But now, it's all I can fucking think about. I am totally consumed by my reckless lifestyle. I don't really care though, and evidently, neither does anybody else.
My mind is like a stuck record: STARVE, SMOKE, CUT, STARVE, SMOKE, CUT, STARVE, SMOKE, CUT, CRY, CRY, CRY, STARVE, SMOKE, CUT.
I guess I just feel.... overwhelmed by intense feelings of loneliness and self-loathing.
This post is erratic and doesn't make much sense.