lucyfer

Pierce the Veil is still the love of my life 

Nirvana songs are erotic to the soul. RIP angel Kurt 

If someone I trust and/or care about screams at me in anger, the way I cope is quite simple. I go to the bathroom, lock the door, and sit in the farthest corner I can (usually the shower), with my arms hugging my knees and my face buried. I wait for the pain to fade and try my best not to cry. They may knock and tell me to open the door, to come out, that they're sorry, but in that moment I seem to be frozen. I don't move. I am a child again, grasping for dear life at the little safe place I have left. Think of your happy place, the therapist said, think of your happy place. I almost forget where I am and I've been doing this on occasion since I was a little girl. Does it help? Somewhat, only temporarily. The words stick for as long as my mind wants them to.

This is the only place I feel safe. No one knows me and I haven't embarrassed myself quite yet. I can't lie. I long for friends. No one will probably respond to this directly but I'm alright with being alone as I deserve. At least here, there are no familiar faces that spark pressure to be good and noticed and liked. There is no reputation attached to a name I loathe (myself). Only raw emotions, photographs, art, and everything in between.

Yeah, I relapsed. I was only clean for the sake of pleasing others but I haven't a relationship to lose anymore, so why not? I don't have a reason not to do it anymore. I deserve to be hurt.

I want to cut again. It's been 8 months, the longest I've gone since I started. If I do, people will be mad at me, the guilt will make me want to do it again, and from then on I won't be able to stop.