Post by ❴ ғα∂ιηg ✦ яεαℓιтү ❵ on Mar 9, 2017 9:56:38 GMT -5
*tw: implied self harm*
It was a subtle thought.
But a thought.
It came at once, in a blinding fast pace, an escapable brake neck speed. It dissapeared as soon as it came.
No, I told myself, not today. But it was today or never.
Deep breathe. What's there to lose if I do it anyways? I falter though, stumbled around the idea. Hesitated to act on the urge. I couldn't do it. I would hurt, and hurt, until it was gone.
It wasn't a pretty thought, but a thought. It made me squirm. With discomfort, with desire. Then again, they're practically one in the same.
I looked down at the metal in my hand, I imagined what it was like, remembering my first time. I swore that'd be the only time, the last time, that it'd never happen again.
It happened again.
Three years it happened actually. Nothing changed other than the reason for it. I made a promise to myself a few months ago though. I wouldn't do it again, if not for me, for them.
I set the blade on the floor.
It was hard, setting it on the floor. I could barely move other than my shaking. Shaking. Was it with fear? Anxiety? Desire? Or was it the impossible, was it with the will to stop?
The will to stop.
And stop I did. It wasn't my last time that day, but it wasn't going to be my last time in the future.
I picked it up again, I pressed the flat surface against my skin. The palm of my hand. I didn't move it, no slashes.
Instead, with shaking limbs, I stood up and walked across the room.
I had overcome this, I wasn't going to fall for its trap again. Wouldn't let it ensnare me with its pain.
I threw the razor away.
It was a subtle thought.
But a thought.
It came at once, in a blinding fast pace, an escapable brake neck speed. It dissapeared as soon as it came.
No, I told myself, not today. But it was today or never.
Deep breathe. What's there to lose if I do it anyways? I falter though, stumbled around the idea. Hesitated to act on the urge. I couldn't do it. I would hurt, and hurt, until it was gone.
It wasn't a pretty thought, but a thought. It made me squirm. With discomfort, with desire. Then again, they're practically one in the same.
I looked down at the metal in my hand, I imagined what it was like, remembering my first time. I swore that'd be the only time, the last time, that it'd never happen again.
It happened again.
Three years it happened actually. Nothing changed other than the reason for it. I made a promise to myself a few months ago though. I wouldn't do it again, if not for me, for them.
I set the blade on the floor.
It was hard, setting it on the floor. I could barely move other than my shaking. Shaking. Was it with fear? Anxiety? Desire? Or was it the impossible, was it with the will to stop?
The will to stop.
And stop I did. It wasn't my last time that day, but it wasn't going to be my last time in the future.
I picked it up again, I pressed the flat surface against my skin. The palm of my hand. I didn't move it, no slashes.
Instead, with shaking limbs, I stood up and walked across the room.
I had overcome this, I wasn't going to fall for its trap again. Wouldn't let it ensnare me with its pain.
I threw the razor away.
