Please please please do not hurt yourself so you can send in submissions.

This blog does not exist to glorify self harm or promote self harm/self hatred in any way. The sole purpose of this blog is to celebrate our bodies and our life, and to find beauty in everyday mishaps.

From now on, I will need to be much more cautious about the content of the submissions, because it has been made clear to me that some of those who are sending in submissions are hurting themselves in order to submit.

If this continues and I cannot differentiate between self harm submissions and everyday mishaps submissions, I will have to close down submissions for a while, if not permanently.  

If you’re suicidal or dealing with self harm, please check out this blog and feel free to talk to me or any admin on TS Watch. I know what it’s like, I’ve been there, and there’s much better ways to deal with your emotions. 

anonymous said:

This is in reply to the earlier anon about self harm scars. I too have them on my upper thigh, about two dozen or so, and I've honestly never had a partner comment on them. Mine are very prominent due to being a black woman and I've never had a casual or long term partner react negatively. I'd suggest just being confident and not ashamed of them.

More good advice for our previous anon.

- S

What It Means To Me To Be A Dickbrain

So when I went to my old secondary school, I was treated like a bag of dirt. I was basically the school punching bag. I was never in any physical fights, but the bullies mentally destroyed me. Eventually and non-surprisingly, I developed a dandy little thing known as Anxiety-based Depression. This eventually took over me and, as Derren said, towered over me.

When I was 14, I discoverd how brilliant, sweet and funny Derren Brown was. He was an escape for me from everything that was happening. (that was when I was diagnosed with CFS as well) He basically saved me.

Then, when I saw Infamous for the first time, it was a time in my life when I was feeling so alone and so suicidal, despite everything I had and the wonderful friends I had, but seeing Derren live, and he made THAT speech. That beautiful, uplifting and fantastic speech. When he said “Dickbrains unite!” I cheered so loudly. That bit saved my life, and whenever I felt down, I thought of it.

This past week or so, I’ve been feeling terrible. I’ve relapsed, attempted suicide, cried myself to sleep more than once and the only thing that was keeping me alive was one friend. But now, after watching Infamous on TV again, even if I was very disappointed with Channel 4’s editing, that one speech that saved my life was still there. And me, being the nerdy fan I am, stood up and cheered, putting my fists above my head, tearing up so much.

Though I may not be as in touch with most other Derren fans as I used to be or as I would like to be, I love being a Dickbrain. It’s the fandom I’m most proud of being in, and I love you all so much.

Dickbrains unite!

all I’m gonna say is that I haven’t slept since Thursday night and every time I get less than an A on an assignment I have a shithole anxiety attack that ends in me cutting and not remembering it the next day no matter how hard I try not to

grades aren’t even remotely worth it, kids

anonymous said:

Please help, I've been trying not to cut again & I've nearly been 20 days clean but I just keep craving the blade & I don't even know why because some of the time I'm not even sad I just get a sudden urge, Please Help As Soon As You Can, thanks x

First off I am proud of you for not self harming for a full 20 days.

I suggest maybe trying to replace the bad habit (self harming) with a few of these.

Alternatives for when you’re feeling angry or restless:

  • Scream very loudly
  • Tear apart newspapers, photos, or magazines
  • Go to the gym, dance, exercise
  • Listen to music and sing along loudly
  • Draw a picture of what is making you angry
  • Beat up a stuffed bear
  • Pop bubble wrap
  • Pop balloons
  • Scribble on a piece of paper until the whole page is black
  • Throw darts at a dartboard
  • Go for a run
  • Write your feelings on paper then rip it up
  • Build a fort of pillows and then destroy it
  • Throw ice cubes at the bathtub wall, at a tree, etc
  • Get out a fine tooth comb and vigorously brush the fur of a stuffed animal (but use gentle vigor)
  • Make a soft cloth doll to represent the things you are angry at; cut and tear it instead of yourself
  • Flatten aluminium cans for recycling, seeing how fast you can go
  • On a sketch or photo of yourself, mark in red ink what you want to do. Cut and tear the picture
  • Break sticks
  • Cut up fruits
  • Make yourself as comfortable as possible
  • Yell at what you are breaking and tell it why you are angry, hurt, upset, etc.
  • Buy a cheap plate and decorate it with markers, stickers, cut outs from magazines, words, images, what ever that expresses your pain and sadness and when you’re done, smash it. (Please be careful when doing this, its best to do this outdoors)
  • The Calm Jar (Fill a mason jar or similar with colored water and glitter. When feeling upset or angry you can shake it to disturb the glitter and focus on that until the glitter settles.)

Alternatives that will give you a sensation (other than pain) without harming yourself:

  • Hold ice in your hands, against your arm, or in your mouth
  • Run your hands under freezing cold water
  • Clap your hands until it stings (however make sure you don’t clap too hard)
  • Wax your legs
  • Put PVA/Elmer’s glue on your hands then peel it off
  • Massage where you want to hurt yourself
  • Take a hot shower/bath
  • Write or paint on yourself
  • Put tiger balm on the places you want to cut. (Tiger balm is a muscle relaxant cream that induces a tingly sensation. You can find it in most health food stores and vitamin stores.)

I hope some of these tips help you xoxo

-Hermit Sam

okay so I need to talk about this cause its making me very happy and no one wants to listen so I’m just gunna post it here whatever sorry don’t read it
I met this guy joey and I totally thought like, oh he’d never ever like me or even be interested in me because he can do so much better and get such ‘prettier’ and skinnier girls than me. But then he started to want to be with me 24/7 and eventually he asked me out despite the fact that I’m big, awkward, and just totally opposite of what he’s dated before. he’s seen my scars and kissed them and it makes me so happy that someone who usually goes for the ‘perfect’ stable girl, wants to be with me, the most unstable emotional girl you’d ever meet. Last night was so amazing too, we got to sleep together and he just knows how to make me comfortable and feel safe. Idk I’m so happy right now. Wow. And I used to think if never be happy again.



There is a dangerous peace in deciding that you want to commit suicide. My closest friends and family know my history with depression, but I’ve kept one thing to myself for several years now. It was always too overwhelming to acknowledge, but at 23 and healthy, it doesn’t affect me the same way anymore. I was 16 and miserable. There were several things going on in my personal life that I couldn’t handle anymore. I had cut before, never that deep where I could die, but enough that I still have fading scars to this day. I was beside myself in my room and thought life could not and would not improve. Aside from my dog, I was home alone. I was in such pain and could physically feel the weight of imbalance like it was a migraine going through my whole body. Before I knew it, I was out of my room and walking to the kitchen. I opened a drawer, and pulled out the sharpest knife I could find. I passed it between my hands like a tennis ball, weightless and with ease. For the first time in weeks, I could breathe; things would be okay again. I placed the knife really gently on my forearm, and pulled it away slowly, spinning it around my fingers. Then my dog barked, and I dropped the knife on the floor. It clattered, and I was taken out of the peace, stepping away from the knife like it was fire. I burst into sobs, and I cried on my kitchen floor for an hour. I cried for what could have happened, for my family, but most of all, I cried for myself. I had never been so alone, so incapable of existing, in my life. I know now that it was nothing to be ashamed of, but I put that night out of my head for a while because it was too embarrassing. Years later, when I lost my father to suicide in 2011, my eyes opened to the dangers of no suicide prevention, and the stigma around mental illness. 

This week is National Suicide Prevention Week. For the past three years, it’s become my early preparation for grieving my father’s death on October 2nd. I tend to do my grieving, and countless recounting of the night’s events, by myself. That seems to be how I handle most of my emotions, and it really is practice when it comes to understanding that it’s okay to talk to people about your “feelings”. I work on that everyday, or at least I try to. Since 13, when some awful, gross kid in 7th grade told me I was ugly, I’ve struggled with depression. There’s only so many years of bad skin, braces, and an erratic home life that a girl can handle. Nowadays, I’m sure of myself. Everyone has their moments, but I’m the best I can be for where my life is right now. I have anxiety that builds up if I’m not proactive about it, I have nightmares about hearing the gun shot, and I spent a long time in denial. Luckily, I entered therapy last year, and I am much better. But no matter what I may feel, what my family feels, it really won’t ever be the same. Loss is loss, but it’s important to learn from it. 

The stigma around mental illness is astounding. During my father’s wake, a woman I barely knew said to me, “But he was such a good guy.” Even at that time, when I could’ve easily slipped into anger toward my father and agreed with her, I could not believe what I was hearing. Since when does killing yourself make you a bad person? Hearing that was an early push toward acknowledging that there was a lot of work to do. Because of that, I feel compelled to speak on behalf of my father and others any chance I get. In the recent death of Robin Williams, a man who reminded me a lot of my father, I saw an onslaught of negativity and ignorance toward mental health. I can’t imagine someone at my cousin’s services, a beautiful young boy that succumbed to cancer in 2001, saying, “He should have just tried harder.” It’s not even a question because cancer is a truly horrible disease. That obvious understanding is exactly how we need to view people who have committed suicide, attempt it, or simply consider it. They are sick, and too sick sometimes, to help themselves. If as a society, we could create a safe space for those who struggle, then think of how many people wouldn’t take their own lives? Much like when you don’t treat the flu, it’s going to get worse. When you have the flu, you go to the doctor. It’s a standard procedure of events. But what if your brain was sick? So chemically imbalanced that you had to tell your mother, your best friend, your partner, “I want to die”, and they clamp up with, “That’s crazy” or “How could you feel that way?”

I’m thankful I never went through with taking my life, but having been there, knowing that moment well, it has helped me understand my father more, and doing all I can to spread the importance of suicide prevention. Just one moment of peace isn’t worth the lifetime of impact you leave behind if you succeed in taking your own life, but the suicidal can’t see it that way. That is why the stable, or the ones who’ve survived and feel up to it, have to do their part. 

It is very easy to drape a veil over what’s inside you. I love making my friends laugh, I enjoy looking like an idiot, and I’m personable. If you didn’t know my history, you wouldn’t think I’ve struggled that much. I’m not always a perfect person, but I do credit myself with the hard work I’ve done to get to a healthier place. There’s always been this idea that the funniest people have lead the most difficult lives. I’m sure there’s truth to that. If you’ve suffered, what else is there to do but try and make the most of life? My father was the same exact way, but just because I survived and he didn’t, should not matter on how he is judged. He lived in a society that didn’t allow him to admit he wasn’t okay, but we don’t have to live that way anymore. We need the ones who are hurting to know that we understand them. That when someone admits wanting to die, we make it clear that we believe the severity of their situation. Having faith in someone’s honesty is such a huge part of suicide prevention. For me at least, knowing someone validated my sickness helped me start my battle for stability. 

You’re not your depression, you’re not your sickness, and it can be overcome. But you shouldn’t have to do it alone. 

This is something completely disgusting that happened today on my Facebook, please read this because this was cruel and kind of heart breaking to read. I have to put this following images under read more with a huge trigger warning. *TRIGGER WARNING RAPE, TRIGGER WARNING ANTI FEMINISM, TRIGGER WARNING VICTIM BLAMING, TRIGGER WARNING ABUSE, TRIGGER WARNING SUICIDE, TRIGGER WARNING IDIOCY*

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