'The ear buds are tickling my ears.'
That's all I can think of. I am riding to the hospital and that's all that is going through my head? Wtf is wrong with me?
'Woah don't go there (y/n). If you need to answer that question just look down at your hands for gods sake!'
Just covered in blood. Damn slitting my wrists is messy. Next time just don't call an ambulance. Ugh.
-------------------------chapter 1--------------------------
I started cutting at age 11. My suicidal cutting started at 12. I'm not your average emo, depressed, cutting girl. I don't wear all black, I smile, laugh, have friends. Not all of them really no me though obviously. And if any of them knew any of this shit, they didn't bother to help.
Most of the cutting happens when I'm just all alone in a house, amd see a blade. That's when I cut my hips, the wrists only happen in my room. When I've had a long day, reminding myself of how worthless I am. That's when I go upstairs, close my door, and start on my wrist. It's actually satisfying- the bright blood, and knowing that I can at least do something right.
'Ugh god! Why do I do this?! I have parents that love me, and friends that care about me! How am I this broken?'
Well according to my psychiatrist I'm depressed. Like that's going to change anything. I already knew that, and labeling it wasn't going to make it any better. Like:
"Oh yay! Now that I know the problem I'm gonna do everything I can to fix it! Then I'll be a happy go lucky girl, with no problems or suicidal thoughts and actions!"
Yeah like that could ever possibly happen, especially cause I'm currently bleeding out. See you on the other side!
Hey sorry that this is depressing, but I'm kind of a depressing person! Hope you liked this first part! 😅
