“Those who self harm, or self harmed in the part are often grouped in with alcoholics and other addicts. No matter how long it’s been or how you feel, you are always in a state of recovery. You will never be cured of your addiction, it will always be there, you will always have to refer to yourself as a “recovering ____” When you talk about it, no matter how many years sober. I am still a “recovering cutter” after two and a half years of being clean. I will wear that title with the knowledge that I can always slip up, though I feel strong enough to never go that road again. My next tattoo will be on my forearm, a lotus flower in the front, symbolizing that even in the murkiest water, beautiful things will emerge, a butterfly in the back (a tribute to The Butterfly Project, a butterfly that will never fade, will never die), and two quotes around my arm. “An addict is always an addict.” On top and “Sober is just another word for thirsty” around the bottom. A reminder of who I was, and what I will always have to deal with.”
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November 2011
39 posts
“Lookie me… I can steal peoples ideas too! “And then he said I can be, or can’t be. It’s really the thought on my mind lately” and BAM! I’m a hip playwright! WONDERFUL.”
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“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND, I can’t play the nice guy anymore.”
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MORE REASONS I HATE SOCIETY
So, today on my Tumblr, I read this:
“Dear Mom and Dad, I’m sorry for being such a dissapointment. I’m sorry for the pain and the trouble I’ve caused. I’m sorry I’m not pretty and skinny. I’m sorry my grades aren’t perfect. I’m sorry I wear all black and listen to the wrong kind of music. I’m sorry I’m not normal. I’m sorry I’m not perfect. I’m sorry I’m not what you pictured your daughter turning out to be. I’m just sorry. I’m sorry I’m so depressed all the time. I’m sorry about the cutting. I never meant to hurt you. I wish I could make it up to you. I’m so sorry. Love, Me.”
First off, what makes you think your parents think you’re a disappointment? Let me tell you. They look at you every day, and they love you. They’re proud you’ve made it this far. You don’t cause them trouble, and the only pain is when your mother pushed you out the baby hole. No matter what you do with your life, they will support you. Sometimes, they’re the only people on your team, and not because they have to be. But because they want to be. Because they love you, even in your angsty rage “BLARG MY PARENTS HATE ME WELL I HATE YOU TOO NOBODY UNDERSTANDS!
Second, why the fuck would your parents care if you’re pretty or skinny? You are the most BEAUTIFUL person in their eyes, and the most amazing, and they know they’re lucky to have you. And as I’ve ranted about before, fuck being skinny. It’s a pain in the ass.
Third, parents under stand that you aren’t going to get straight A’s in all your classes. There are some subjects we all just suck at. They get it. As long as you’re not flunking out of school, they don’t care.
Fourth, why are you wearing all black in the first place? If you’re into that kinda scene, you wouldn’t apologize for your clothing. If you’re sorry for wearing all black, EXPAND YOUR WARDROBE AND ADD MORE COLORS! That’s an easy fix if you’re truly sorry for it. And your music taste? Nobody gives a FUCK what you listen too. Really, nobody cares. You don’t have to apologize to your parents for that one, just don’t turn your music full blast, because again, nobody cares what you listen to.
Fifth, NOBODY IS NORMAL. FUCK THAT NOISE. THERE. IS. NO. NORMAL. We are all fucking weird this this weird fucking world, so I don’t even know why we have that word, other then to describe our body functions. So unless you have chronic diarrhea, don’t apologize for not being normal.
Sixth, read above. Perfection is made up, and doesn’t exist.
Seventh, you know what your parents pictured their daughter to be? Healthy. Not in jail. Not killing shit for fun. Not having the aspiration to be a circus freak or clown her entire life. So, I think you’re good on that one.
Eighth, if you’re depressed, seek medical attention. Go to therapy. Talk to somebody. You can get through it I promise. Just don’t sit around and mope.
Ninth, same goes for cutting. I was depressed for 8 years, self harmed for 5 of them. I got out of it by the skin of my teeth, and no help whatsoever from anyone. You have it in you to stop saying sorry, and start taking action. If you’re sorry about having depression, do things that makes you happy, have the willpower to stop cutting. It’s not as hard as you think. STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF. Easier said then done? No, actually. It’s as easy as smiling. As writing fairy tales. At looking at old couples holding hands and knowing that will be you someday. And wanting to live to make that happen. Wanting to be happy, so when you find the love of your life, you can keep them forever and not scare them away with your mopey stories and “woe is me” attitude.
Last but not least, you say you want to make it up to your parents. First off, there is nothing to “make up”, but if you feel like you need to so something, you can do that by changing your attitude around. Give your mother a kiss every morning and call her mommy. Offer to help out with dinner, and have a water/flour/food fight. Smile more. Thank them for every little thing they do for you.
So. There’s another Taylor rant. Sorry for blocking out your tumblr feed from cute/artsy/Harry Potter pictures, but I needed to say it. :)
I lost a child to the Occupy movement.
Just thirteen days ago I was eight months pregnant.
Everyone loved rubbing my belly.
I even wore my “Baby On Board” shirt over my gigantic stomach.
Reblog if you've had your tumblr longer than Kim Kardashian's marriage.
Reblog if...
You understand what it is to be a cutter.
You understand that it’s not for attention.
You understand that it’s a release.
You understand that the aim isn’t death.
You understand that feeling pain is easier than feeling numb or broken.
You understand that emotions can choke you.
Reblog if you’re not:
disgusted, horrified or look down on cutters…
Reblog if you really, truly, understand.
That awkward moment when you spilled table all over your liquid..
