Every day
TW: suicidal ideation, self-harm
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. I also have an intense fear of posting anything because of past bullying. Even posting this is incredibly hard, but I don't know where else to go with all of this anymore.
Every day, the desire to die grows stronger, as I realize that I’m getting older and time is slipping away. I can’t see a future, and I'm terrified that I'll simply lose my mind.
It feels like I'm slipping further into madness every day.
My body is overwhelmed by persistent itching and burning sensations. And it's not just that — I get these phantom pains, like my joints are being twisted. Knees, elbows. I’m scared that a normal life is out of reach and that I'll never truly recover or be able to handle the treatment. I feel like I will never be healthy.
Never, never, never.
I've been in "remission" from cutting for a year and a half, but lately, the urge to cut has become a physical agony. It feels like withdrawal; my whole body itches, I shake from it, my jaw clenches so hard my teeth are starting to crumble again. My hands hurt so fucking much, and the thoughts in my head keep telling me to open the cabinet, take the blade, and just do it.
It's unbearable.
The longer I resist, the more I don't just want to cut — I want to go all the way.
And to be honest, it doesn't even feel like a real remission, because I still hit and scratch myself until I'm exhausted. On top of that, I also recently had to face something I still can't even call an attempt, honestly. Like, does it even count? It was a couple of years ago, and I brushed it off forever because I didn't end up in the hospital. I cut my fingers up pretty badly trying to get the blade out of a razor, but the second I held it to my wrist, I just broke down sobbing and couldn't do it. My memories of that whole thing are a total blur, and I don't remember what happened next. All I remember is the fucking meltdown and how damn pathetic I felt.
What is the point of all this effort? Why do I keep holding myself back?
I don’t understand the point of staying clean anymore if I’m going to die anyway, regardless of whether I hurt my body or not.
I don’t understand what life is for, especially for someone like me.
My only motivation is my characters, whom I've been with for four years. From morning until night, they are all I think about; I only write and draw them. Everything else is gray and meaningless. Honestly, if I hadn't found myself in creating my OCs, I probably wouldn't even be writing this post. If I died, my only dream would be to be with them and finally find some peace.
Every day, my thoughts of suicide intensify. >!I already know how I would do it. I just haven't picked the day yet.!< But I feel like it is inevitable.