Entries of a Wrist Cutter

These are the entries of a wrist cutter. A self harmer suffering from BPD, borderline personality disorder. The entries include prose and poetry, and are semi-autobiographical.


5. Falling


A mental asylum is where I’ll end up if I don’t start getting better. It’s just so hard. It’s hard to be happy; being happy shouldn’t be hard! It’s something that should come naturally to people. It doesn’t come naturally to me though… but the sad thing is that I wasn’t born this way. I fucked myself up with drugs. Nothing hardcore, but because I was already depressed the soft drugs managed to bring out this ugly side in me. By taking drugs I unleashed a ferocious beast that had lurked inside the darkness of my mind. The chaos that had once surrounded me now consumes me; the once dwelling pain now dictates my every move and governs my whole life.

I won’t go back there again; back to drugs. I wish my girlfriend would believe this. We broke up because I smoked drugs even though she had told me not to. She wanted to protect me, but I wouldn’t listen. I almost lost her forever. But I made a promise to her, and to myself, that I would never go back to drugs again. The only drugs I’m on now are psycho pharmaceuticals, caffeine and nicotine. But nothing makes me better. I’ve been on medication for over a year now, I’m nineteen, started university and I’m still a walking disaster.

I can’t deal with all this pressure. I had enough of that from school, my family, and now I’m back to square one. I’m rooting myself in the ground, only to dig myself up again.


There’s always someone who tries

To catch you with a broken net...

But that poor person is blind, completely

Oblivious to that hole in their net.

They think they've caught you, saved you from your doom

But they can't see that you're still falling.

You fall straight through the hole and keep

Falling and falling. Falling and falling...

They tried their best but they are all just oblivious

To the extent of the negativity that surrounds your soul,

The deep, dark depression that drags you below to the point of no return.

So now you are falling. Falling faster and faster.

Trying with all your might to stop in midair,

Catch your breath and work your way back to the top.

But you’re crashing fast to the ground.

The impact of collision is soon to be felt

Pounding every body part,

Shattering you into pieces.

But do you care? Do you really care?

Why is it such a struggle every day?

A constant fight in the dark,

A tragic drowning in the ocean…

Flying through the air,

Giving all your power to keep your wings from faltering…

But that’s what they seem to be best at; faltering.

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