It is 12:14 am and I can not sleep. This is so stupid because I need to get up early tomorrow and study. I am meeting a friend at the library, whoop-dee-freaking-doo. Well excuse the fatigue induced sarcasm, it was actually going to be a great fun day because I study better, well I actually do study rather than watching Australia's Next Top Model and Project Runway Australia and USA on youtube, when there is someone with me.
GOAOAOAOASJASKJADSJ! I am angry! Angry! At myself for being me. I am sick of being me. I hate it and I feel like an idiot. I tried to cut myself tonight, I feel like an absolute idiot saying that, like an emo wannabe moody teenager with died black hair and skinny leg jeans who writes crappy poetry about bleeding hearts and cutting to release the beautiful red blood like rivers gosh please slap me, kill me before I become one of those! It didn't work, I even couldn't even draw blood, even though I didn't do it with like a butter knife or plastic fork, but sharp sewing scissors and no, I fail at this too, although I don't know what I want to do. Like, it just didn't work, but I know it was because I was too scared to really try and go deep so I didn't it was just like scratching so It's not like I could expect rivulets of blood. I don't know. I feel like I am going crazy sometimes. I feel completely detached sometimes and far away from anything around me. I don't want this life and I am in a shitty place so I am sorry I am not writing a great mental health blog about recovery and all that shit because I don't know shit about pharmaceutical companies and thinking positive. I'm a failure at everything. I want to die and I also am too scared to die and don't want to.
But something that does interest me - END EMO RANT - is this whole cutting thing. I honestly agree it is its sensationalisation and not really glamorous depiction but maybe slightly so, in the media, in movies and books and its saturation in popular culture, that makes kids think of it. I don't think there is some ancient human instinct from caveman times to hurt oneself when feeling bad. To manifest physical pain when our psyche is distressed. Or maybe there is. Maybe Homo Sapiens put his hand into the fires they made or banged his head with rocks.
But honestly, the way "cutting" is presented in movies like Thirteen, in books like the Babysitters Club spinoff about Dawn and her edgy friends, on the TV Show Seventh Heaven - I am talking here about my own exposure during my time of growing up in the turn of the millenium - makes it something to do. It puts the idea into little kiddie's heads, like me, that it is thing to do if you are depressed, maybe even a cool thing to do, where you can wear bandaids on your wrists and a boy at school will notice and start loving you, all your friends will start caring, and life will be great although glamorously depressing.
I feel like a right tool. I know for some people cutting is a serious problem, don't mean to denigrate that. And its like I have all the urges on the inside waiting to erupt, when shit things happen like I stuff up an exam or a boy insinuates that I'm fat - which I am not, sure I've put on weight, but I'm still 5"11', I am not that fat, just not thin like I used to be, I do things like scratch myself until I break the skin and stuff, but I guess I won't be conforming to the whole wristslitters lifestyle anytime soon.
I wish people would take me seriously without me feeling like I need to resort to that. I think the whole "they're just doing it for the attention" argument about cutting does have some credence. Maybe not for everyone. But I think for a lot of sufferers, self harm is a cry for help.