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[Borderline Insane]

@pls-fuck-off-m8-thanks-blog

((help me))
“WARNING - Before you make that first cut remember: You will enjoy this. You will find the blood and pain release addictive. Even though you think you can make a few tiny cuts that aren’t deep and will heal easily, they will get deeper. They will scar. They will take sometimes months to heal. And years for the scars to fade. If you think you can limit the cutting to one area of your body, think again; it will spread when you run out of skin. “Be prepared to withdraw from others and live in a constant state of shame. Even if you are the most honest person ever to live, you will find yourself lying to the people you love. You will jerk back from your friends when they touch you as if their hands were dipped in poison. You will be terrified that they will feel something under the cloth of your shirt or because it just plain hurts so much to be touched. Be prepared to get so out of control you fear your next cut because you don’t know how bad it will be. Just wait for 10 cuts to turn into 100. “Be prepared for your entire life to revolve around thinking about cutting, cutting and covering up cutting. And just wait till that first time you cut "too deep.” And you freak out because the blood won’t stop, and you are gaping, and you feel yourself shaking all over. You are having a panic attack and you are terrified but you can’t tell anyone. So you sit there alone, praying it will be ok swearing you’ll never let it go this far again. But you will, and further. “Don’t worry, you will learn how to take care of your cuts so that you can go deeper and deeper and avoid the ER. And the better you get at treating your cuts, the deeper they get. You will lie to yourself and justify it when you find yourself spending 20, 30 or 50 dollars every time you go the pharmacy. You will feel the flutter of your heartbeat every time you go to the counter to ring up your order. Butterfly strips, 3 or four different kinds of dressings, Betadine, antibiotic cream, medical tape, scar reducers. You will tap your foot impatiently, hoping the line will just move and no one will stare at you or wonder why you need all these things. And at the same time, secretly hope someone will notice; someone who is standing in line with an armful of the same supplies; someone who understands but of course that never happens. "Medical supplies won’t be the only thing you spend all your money on. Be prepared to buy a new wardrobe; long-sleeve shirts in summer colours, bracelets, wristbands , boots, gloves, the list goes on and on. You will start looking at everyone in a different way, scanning their bodies for any signs of SI just hoping that you might meet someone like you so you don’t feel so terribly alone. You won’t even think about it as your eyes scan their wrists arms, hoping, just hoping, they will be like you. But they are not. You will see their clean arms and feel terribly ashamed and alone. You will start doing a lot of things alone. "You will always have to wash your laundry in private so know one sees the blood stains on your clothes and towels. You will always be cleaning up the blood, scrubbing your bathroom floor, wiping the blood off your keyboard. You won’t be able to make it through a day without cutting. "Next thing you know, you are in a public bathroom somewhere breaking open a scab with a sewing needle that you keep in your wallet for emergencies. When you get really desperate anything will be a cutting tool; scissors, a car key, a needle, a paperclip, even a pen. Doesn’t matter what it is if you need to cut badly enough, you will find something. "Say goodbye to things you took for granted. Like wearing shorts or sandals, pedicures, sleeveless tops. A normal summer day at the beach or in a swimming pool will become a far off memory for you. Get ready to itch. Because you will itch and itch, "so much you will look like you have fleas or a skin disease.” You will become an expert on your body as you destroy it carefully. You will dream about cutting, you will dream about being exposed. It will haunt you day and night and take over your life. You will wish you never made that first cut because while you absolutely HATE cutting at the same time you love it and can not live with out it…“

Anonymous (via utterlydisordered)

When I was 13 years old and curious about sex and love, I asked my mom if she had had sex before marrying my father (of whom she is still married to, and has been since before I was born). She said that that wasn’t really a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. I said ‘sure it is, you’ve either had sex before him, or you haven’t’. She brought me onto the couch and sat me down and told me about the boy she liked when she was young and how one night she snuck into his house while his parents were gone and they were kissing and he said they should have sex and she said that she wanted to save sex for marriage and he laughed and basically took all her clothes off and he raped her and as my mom was telling the story she cried and this was the second time I had ever seen my mom cry. She was 12 when it happened.

In grade 8 I got a call from my friend in the middle of the night and she was drunk in the park crying and told me that she went out that night with some other friends and they drank a little and her guy “friend” starting flirting and yes she laughed at first but then he tried to pull her shirt over her head and she pulled away and he ripped her shirt and it was her favourite shirt and then he pushed her to her knees and HIS BEST FRIEND HELD HER JAW OPEN WHILE HE FACE FUCKED HER. And so I went to the park and picked her up and took her home and slept in her bed with her except we didn’t sleep because she just cried and her mouth bled and this was four years ago but I still have to be the one to bring her items to the till it the cashier is a man, and she still has anxiety attacks and she’ll get a rash all over her body and I just want to kill those boys but instead they are still walking around. And I’m in the bathroom with her, dabbing at her skin with a warm cloth until it returns to its regular colour.

And in grade 9 one of my closest friends was kinda seeing this boy and so they hung out one night and then she said that she really had to be getting back home and he said that she wasn’t going anywhere until she gave him what he wanted and he parked the car and took off her clothes and she said no and he ignored her and so she laid in the backseat totally limp and just cried and it wasn’t even sex, he just masterbated by using her body instead of his hand and she came to school the next day with vodka in her water bottle and she drank all day and I had to fight her to get the alcohol away from her and she just cried and threw up and I skipped class while I held her hair back and that same boy texted me a month later, asking if I ever wanted to hangout sometime.

And in that same year my very best friend who has never even kissed a boy, confessed to me that when she was 9 years old, her 12 year old cousin made her give him a hand job and he told her that was what cousins do and he gave her a chocolate bar afterwards and she told me that he probably doesn’t even remember it but that it’s something that she’ll never have the luxury of forgetting.

And in grade 10 I knew a girl who invited her best friend over to watch Disney movies and then he started to put his hands down her pants and she said no but she is 130lbs and he is 220lbs and he called her a tease while she tried to fight him but he used one hand to hold her down, and the other to put inside of her and i was the one to push her inside of a classroom and stand in front of her while calling the police when he showed up at our school looking for her and she was so damn scared.

And a few months later I skipped class and was in the car with a guy who i had had unprotected sex with in the past while under the influence of cocaine but this time I was sober and I insisted we use a condom but he told me he couldn’t feel anything while the condom was on so he ripped it off and I said I refused to have unprotected sex again and so he just grabbed me and forced himself into my mouth and I was crying and he pulled me onto him and I just came saying “stop” over and over like a broken record but he must’ve heard something different because he went until he came and I just sat naked in the backseat while he drove me back to the school and said “we should do this again sometime”. And I had five showers that night and I scratched at my skin so hard to try and rip his fingerprints off of me, I still have the scars.

And I found out soon afterwards that that same guy had raped a classmate of mine, 5 months earlier and she told me about how he brought her McDonald’s first, and how he said they could take things slow and she told me about how he didn’t listen to her either. And he goes to our school and so after she told me about her incident and I told her about mine, we decided to report it to the police and the trial is currently still going on and he told people about it, except in his version we are just “asking for attention” and all his friends talk about how bad they feel for him. As if HE is the one that still wakes up screaming. As if HE felt like his skin no longer was beautiful, no longer belonged to him. And I held her in my arms as she bawled after giving the police her statement. And she did the same for me.

And I met a woman a year ago in a paint store and she had a service dog and I asked what the dog was for and it turns out that she had been so brutally raped and abused in her life, that the dog is literally trained to keep men away from her.

And I’m so FUCKING SICK AND TIRED OF THIS WORLD WE ARE LIVING IN. How many rape victims eyes have I already looked into? How many more will I? And how many more friends will I hold while they shake? Because I don’t know how many more I can take. And who the fuck still has the nerve to make rape jokes? And… Something just has to change. Please, someone just start being that change.

-16 year old girl

Did I reblog this already I dont care

This just needs to be read by everyone!

I didn't cry what are you talking about pshhhhhhh ;-;

Reblog if you think having depression and anxiety is valid.

I have a point to prove. For everyone that reblogs this, your URL will be written in a notebook and given to my psychology teacher, who believes that depression is a choice. You have until June 1, 2016.

OKAY FOR SOME REASON JOHN BARROWMAN WAS ON MY PLANE DRESSED AS AN AIR HOSTESS GIVING OUT ICE LOLLIES AND I WAS LIKE WTF AND SAID ‘this is now the best day of my life’ AND HE SAID ‘bet you didn’t think Captain Jack Harkness would be giving you something to suck on’ THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED WHY

how many times is it acceptable to reblog this

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as many times as it appears on your dash, it’s a rule

Oh my god ;-;