Sitting In Despair *TW* mentions of self harm and cutting.
As I lie on my bed, searching for my pin, nail clippers and a sharp earring to scar my skin with, the breeze of my fan, wooshing as I search.
I think of the knives we have in the kitchen, one for cutting vegetables, one for stems and one for meat. I remember the time when I was eight. Tears running down my face as I look for different knives. I tried several different knives, running them through my wrist as hard as I could. Desperately trying to make it bleed. "Come on, why wont you bleed?!" I said in desparation. Unfortunately, my siblings saw the sight and my sister told my father.
As I recalled the memory, making my way to the kitchen, I sighed. And once I finally made it I started opening the drawer to the knives and got the butcher knife out and started cutting, one after one after one.
Once I was done, I went to bed and started sobbing, telling myself I was worthless, good for nothing, waste of space, nobody loves you,
pathetic, I should just die and 'they just pity you.' As I finished, I had an awful feeling in my heart and day after day after day I would cut, scratch, and clip my skin.
I have 110 cuts on my skin, some on my chest, a few on my leg, many on my arms and some clips on my stomach. I can feel nothing now, and its not that my parents dont love me, or im being bullied, but it was because of YOU if only you hadnt come into my life, made me feel impure, ruined my life and did things without my consent. I hate you so much I hate you I hate you I hate you. Kill yourself.
