Hope without Bandages

(Trigger Warning)

I was recently diagnosed with Bipolar affective disorder.

This was written when I relapsed some time ago. I thought I’d share.

I’m proud to say I’m officially done with this part of my life. I will never need to break disposable razors for the blades. I don’t miss having to hide my body and I don’t miss the scars and I don’t miss the way it calmed me.  I really want everyone to know that cutting is something that will become an addiction once you start. At least that was my experience and I don’t wish it upon anyone.  I remember sitting on the bathroom floor the day I cut myself too deep and it really had me questioning what the fuck I was doing. Why harm yourself when everyone else tries to harm you too? This world is full of people who want to hurt you and why hurt yourself even more? I don’t miss cutting myself. I remember when I did though. Self – harm is still an issue and it starts at a young age. People don’t stop cutting until they scare themselves by cutting too deep. Well, I can’t say that for a fact but that’s the way it happened for me.

“Each cut, each scar, each burn, a different mood or time. I told him what the first one was, told him where the second one came from. I remembered them all. And for the first time in my life I felt beautiful. Finally part of the earth. I touched the soil and he loved me back.” – Secretary


Self- hatred is so comfortable to me and it has never gone away.

I’ve found hope in bood and razor blades

I’ve found beauty in cuts and bandages

Bleeding has been the easiest part of life

Bruises on my heart can show for it

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1/9/17 Strangers

She falls in love with strangers

She feels lost and vulnerable

As her coping mechanisms try to catch up to her

Older men and women take advantage

But what did you expect?

She falls in love with strangers

Strangers aren’t scary if they mind their own

 

She feels lost and broken but she’s none of those things

She’s strong –  just sometimes too hard

For her own good

She falls in love with strangers

Strangers with beautiful

Smiles

lies

eyes

Half

I’ve only felt half of myself,

When I would be held by a boy who hid his intentions in his eyes.

Only half of himself

Only half of myself

Only have of myself never considered,

That a man was my only choice.

 

Years have passed and I’m 75% of myself

Only learning that I don’t need a person

To be whole

I’ve been kissed by a lost girl

Who hid behind botched poetry

And a false smile

I’m 85%

I’m still learning

100% is unrealistic

Perfection is a myth

Mistakes

I don’t know how I feel about this – I haven’t written anything I really liked in a while. Thought I’d post though so I can try to stay consistent with my blog posts.  Thanks for reading!


And if I’ve learned from my mistakes

I’d swallow my words

Cut them into little pieces

No more written notes, poems, or excessive thoughts

And If I’ve learned from my mistakes

My chest won’t tighten

And I won’t have to fight

These fucking mistakes

Wet Eyelashes

Wet eyelashes cling

Pressed

Squeezed

Until I feel my heart

Break

I can hear its echo weaken

 

I can usually hear it pounding in my ears

Blood rushing to my head

Tissues won’t stop the pain that’s dripping

From wet eyelashes

 

I’m falling deeper into this mass of destruction

The answer is not very clear

From these wet eyelashes

From experience, I know

These eyelashes won’t be dry

Until tomorrow