Neglected Bitch


Copyright Neglected Bitch

Hmm, self injury. Know it all too well unfortunately. I started it when I was fifteen, I’m twenty-three years now. It has been on and off. I feel guilty. Everybody is trying so hard to help me, and then when they think I’m alright I start wearing big bracelets and stuff. I makes me angry when they get mad about it. I understand they’re worried, but they do not understand I would problably be dead by now if I didn’t cut myself every once in a while. It relieves me in a way nothing else can. When I don’t feel anything at all but sadness, I need to see I’m still alive. Anger, frustration, despair, it keeps building up sometimes and I need to get rid of the negative energy. Getting drunk sometimes help as well, except when I still feel shit afterwards, cause then the cuttings are the worst. I like to be in control with the injuries. It may sound stupid, but I feel at peace when I have to take care of the wounds. Like a smash in the face. I look at the blood and I feel silly. Everytime I hope to see how ridiculous it is, but that has not happened yet. I used to be very ashamed by the scars, which are in places you normally not get wounded (how silly, what was I thinking!?). I’m not anymore. Except when I meet new people. It’s kind of funny, where I live (the Netherlands) self injury is not a very common thing, so nobody thinks about that. They’ll believe anything.

Self injury is better than sex or chocolate. Right now it is. I hope to find a new addiction soon. My body is tired of fighting, and so am I.


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