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Does anyone else kinda just want to not exist? Like you don't want to die but you don't want to live either?
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anyone else relate
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When I sh it's not even to get rid of my numb anymore it's just because I want the sting when I rub against it or press down and morbidity pretty red that it becomes it's not a way out anymore it's just the feeling of doing it
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sweater weather? slashing my wrists weather more like
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Please tell me im not the only one who has 2 sides to my sh. On one hand i dont want anyone to find out so nobody worries abt me and tries to stop me, but on the other hand i do want someone to see so i can get help and talk about it but i don't want to seem attention seeking.
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Sw: make up And makeup
Tw:self harm/baby cvts
I’m new to this part of town hope you’ll get something from this, I kinda wish they were bleeding more but I didn’t have the time to do it properly
Block don’t report <333
<3
<3
<3
<3
<3
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I can’t help it, no matter how good I’m doing I always have to eventually
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202 days clean, then the depression gods decided that I was not going to be ok got on the depressive side of tumblr after lovely sewer slide thoughts and now here I am not even 2 minutes after sobbing and telling the world that I relapsed 202 days out the window because I couldn’t take my damned head telling me how much I wanted to not be here so here I am 0 hours 2 minutes and 24 seconds on my relapse counter can’t wait for the other next time i eventually cave into the beautiful thing that is sh
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i thought i was free
of cuts and bleeds
but then it felt like
the dark times came again
and i could not restrain
and i cut myself again
i killed the pain
with another kind of pain
oh how i loved to see
the blood coming out
the red sea of my own life
directed by a silver blade
whether there was nothing i felt
or there was too much feelings
when something was overwhelming
it was my only escape
my only friend
the only one who listened and helped
the only one who could save me in matters of this temporary life
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I paint my wrists the colour red,
To silence the demons in my head.
Creating art out of my pain,
It’s the only thing that keeps me sane.
But why do others cry when they see my art?
Is it because I ripped the canvas apart?
I never understood why they looked so upset,
I guess they just don’t like the colour red.
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Mood honestly
I have no reason to live but no energy to kill myself
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