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  • Showing only topics with the tag "self harm". Back to normal view
    1. Self harm, short sleeves, and trigger warnings. What is fair?

      Yesterday someone on /r/lgbt posted this picture of themself at a pride event, and several people in the thread commented on OP's self harm scars - one asking them to please and thank you spoiler...

      Yesterday someone on /r/lgbt posted this picture of themself at a pride event, and several people in the thread commented on OP's self harm scars - one asking them to please and thank you spoiler tag the image and post a trigger warning as they found the sight of OP's self harm scars triggering.

      As someone who has very similar scars as OP I said fuck that, I disagree. I found it offensive that the sight of someone else's scars somehow grants you the right and allows you to tell them to cover up or hide themself because they find it triggering. To ask to have trigger warnings and spoiler tags added is unfair, in my opinion - the commenter then replied that it's not that hard to do. But for me it's obviously not about the effort it takes to do it, it's about the fundamental principle of asking someone to cover up or hide their body that I take issue with.

      OP said elsewhere that they have struggled with mental health in the past but moved on, and clearly they are now at the point that they feel comfortable or don't mind that other people can see their scars. And I certainly feel like they should be allowed to wear whatever they like. I think that showing scars like this is 1) brave, 2) helps reduce stigma surrounding self harm, and 3) should be entirely that person's prerogative - their body, their choice.

      So I am curious what you all think about this?

      Is it fair to expect or ask someone to tag their picture like this, to hide their scars, to cover up, etc.?

      54 votes
    2. bűnös & fáj

      i intended to actually post these like three days ago but that didn't happen because it has to be super fucking late for me to even want to post these and unfortunately they've now aged...

      i intended to actually post these like three days ago but that didn't happen because it has to be super fucking late for me to even want to post these and unfortunately they've now aged sufficiently that i categorize them firmly in the "intensely mediocre" column with everything i ever do. unfortunate, tbh. anyways here's stuff:

      bűnös

      UP AGAINST THE WALL, MOTHERFUCKER—
      or i'll shatter your bones
      and crush your heart—
      to dance with me is to dance
      a fine line that wrenches two worlds apart

      for on one side there is a hall of saints—
      on the other
      the brimstone of hell—
      and to stay on the side of the hall of saints
      is something you'd best do well.

      and brave souls that dare toe the line—
      that cross it
      are mighty thin—
      and their ranks are made of anarchists
      who commit most grievous sin.

      UP AGAINST THE WALL, MOTHERFUCKER—
      state your allegiance
      to the vaunted line—
      or soon you too shall join the ranks
      of those who deserve malign.


      fáj

      when i was seventeen
      the panic attacks began.
      the nightmares.
      the violence. the violence. the violence.

      violence is a funny little thing—
      insidious, slithering in through one grate
      and out the other.
      it always begins with little things,
      little fantasies in one ear and out the other.
      dreams here and there, manufacturing terror and hurt.
      invasive thoughts, marching to an intensifying drumbeat.
      one offs.

      it's not normal to
      want to hurt so bad.
      it's not normal to
      want to cut yourself everywhere,
      is it?
      to feel those feelings,
      to bear them like a cross shackled on your back?
      to wish some days you could cut to the bone
      even though you're afraid of blood?
      to mutilate yourself until you can't feel anymore
      even though you know those feelings are irrational?
      to wish you could die violently, publicly
      even though you're afraid of death?

      violence isn't a very funny little thing—
      terrifying, inescapable and ever recurring
      one night after the other.
      it was the little things once,
      the little fantasies that used to be but now
      consume the dreams, the
      waking thoughts, becoming a great crescendo.
      every day.

      when i was nineteen
      the panic attacks were normal.
      the nightmares.
      the violence.

      12 votes
    3. i woke up with a headache and found this in my notes. (the coffin song)

      In the shadows Like a ghost you hide In the single most foreign Corners of my mind Therapy and pills still Can’t subside the angelic choir Of your pretty lies Promises you made, The bones I broke...

      In the shadows

      Like a ghost you hide

      In the single most foreign

      Corners of my mind

      Therapy and pills still

      Can’t subside the angelic choir

      Of your pretty lies

      Promises you made,

      The bones I broke

      You once took my breath

      And now I choke

      Jesus let me breathe

      Is there hope for me?

      .

      Now I desire

      The obscure

      All that reminds

      Of being yours

      Your oils, poison

      My waters, pure

      Your love is cancer

      There is no cure.

      .

      I watched my grandfather take his final breaths as he kissed my head and you held my hand. Not two months later you foresaw our end, and decided not to keep me, even as a friend.

      And now you’re off, marriage in the plans. I pray your time falls like the sand and hits the bottom of every glass as fast as it can.

      I have no home. I’m lost and cold. You promised me a home would grow. We got a dog, and had planned for more. Mouth of this world, a fish at shore you took my breath and killed me slow.

      I’m suicidal, I have no hope. I’ve not a gun, don’t have a rope. The only reason I’ve not a note, I’d end it all, I’d end it all.


      I just want to feel pretty.

      Pretty loved and pretty free

      But for now I keep to getting

      Pretty drunk, it isn’t cheap

      But I can afford it/‘s kinda sweet

      Too bad you’re not round

      To drink with me.

      I’d fill the bottle

      We’d watch the office

      Instead I scar

      Until I am solid

      An ugly rock

      A useless object

      I’ll break my stones

      And build a coffin

      And die in your name

      Die in your name.

      11 votes
    4. my therapist won't return my calls (lmfao fuck me)

      tw: self-harm; suicide; lost love. i hit my cigarette like an abuser hits her wife because i'm a fucking coward to afraid to take his life i've felt love before i beg it through the strife but i...

      tw: self-harm; suicide; lost love.

      i hit my cigarette

      like an abuser hits her wife

      because i'm a fucking coward

      to afraid to take his life

      i've felt love before

      i beg it through the strife

      but i only find a heart

      at the wrong side of a blunt and useless knife

      .

      and it's only mine

      at least there's proof

      that i can feel

      when blood protrudes.

      but that's not "work appropriate"

      so i get tattoos

      what a shame i can't get paid to die.

      12 votes
    5. reimagining the lyrics of "Andria" by La Dispute

      currently 7 hours into a 24 hour shift that will see me through to the end of this project. this song came on that helped me find catharsis when i last felt like this in 2014. coincidentally, i'd...

      currently 7 hours into a 24 hour shift that will see me through to the end of this project.

      this song came on that helped me find catharsis when i last felt like this in 2014.

      coincidentally, i'd just finished one of my few milestones in the project

      i could take a break if i wanted to.

      i could hear the words filling themselves in, treating the song like a template.

      decided i'd take a minute to "remix" or "cover" this song for how things are going this time around.

      here's the original.

      maybe give it a listen, then jump into this piece,

      out of words now.

      bishop


      [Verse 1]
      You still cross my mind from day to day
      And I mostly cry
      Still so set on finding out where we went wrong
      and why
      So I retrace our every step with a bloodwet knife
      Trying to figure out what your head thinks
      And my head just ain't what it used to be
      So I ask,

      ...what's the point anyway?

      [Verse 2]

      I remember bringing boxes up the stairs to your apartment
      Knowing love was slipping
      rapidly away
      I remember the skin of your forehead
      Your nose and your lips I'd always kiss when I was out of things to say
      You held my hand, and you would always promise me
      You'd promise me pretty things but I would never understand
      I remember when you said you didn't love me
      And I swear not a single force on earth could stop the trembling of my hand

      [Verse 3]
      I remember how you smiled through the smoke in a crowded little coffeehouse
      And laughed at all my jokes
      And I remember the way that you dressed
      While we wasted all the best of us in alcohol and sweat
      And I remember when I knew that you'd be leaving
      How I barely kept up breathing and I bet if I could to do it all again
      I'd feel the same pain
      I remember faded driving through the city in tears
      How I wept to god in fits, I've hated Texas ever since

      I've found it's true what people say
      That death and drugs can numb the pain
      And every single day I want to fade away, cus

      [Verse 4]
      I still remember independence tricked us
      And lead us helpless holding cash into a pit to be devoured
      I still remember how we held so strong to this
      Though we had never really settled on a way out
      I still remember your blank face
      And how we'd always find a way recommit the same mistakes
      I still dream that it would all come back together
      Just to fall apart again

      [Bridge]
      My dear
      I hear your voice in mine
      I've been alone here
      I've been alone here
      I've been afraid, my dear
      I've been afraid, my dear
      I've been at home here
      I've been at home here
      You've been away for years
      You've been away for years
      I've been alone
      I've been alone
      I've been alone
      I've been alone

      [Verse 5]
      I breathed your name into the air, I etched your name into me
      I felt my anger swelling, vision black, I can't see
      I held your name inside my heart but it got buried in my fear
      It tore the wiring of my brain, I did my best to keep it clear
      So dear, no matter how we part I hold you sweetly in my head
      And if I do not miss a part of you, a part of me is dead
      If I can't love you as a lover, I will love you in my death
      Anything to see you smile, keep you happy in my end.

      3 votes