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.

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9. Suicide attempts

 

My friend tried to kill himself today. Two boxes of painkillers, one bottle of whiskey… one two three, one two three go the pills down his throat… they enter his stomach, start to fizz in the vile acid and slowly dissolve and enter through the blood stream. Was he out of his mind? I don’t know. Did he pace up and down the isle, as I did, holding his head, screaming from pain? Did his heart race like the speed of light? Did thoughts flash through his mind, too fast to make sense? Did confusion fill his heart with terror as mine did? I don’t know…

 

 

One two three,

One two three,

My hands shake like a leaf on a tree.

Four five six,

Four five six,

Alcohol and pills; what a mix!

 

Pacing up and down the room

I once called home. Waiting for my doom,

This bitter, broken heart

Left to fall apart.

Shaking my head, hands trembling

Like a leaf in a winter breeze. Thinking

Thoughts that make no sense, too

Quick for the mind to translate. What do

I do now? I need help, I need help!

 

One two three,

One two three,

My life slowly fades away from me.

Four five six,

Four five six,

This isn’t another one of my pranks or tricks…

 

 

I don’t know what to do. What am I supposed to do? Feeling like shit doesn’t help the situation but I can’t help it. How am I supposed to be happy after something like this…? It just reminds me of my own suicide attempts, both of them with pills.

The first time I tried to kill myself I was between the age of twelve and thirteen. I took as many pills as I could find around the house. Of course there was nothing lethal lying around, so nothing happened to me. My second suicide attempt was when I was sixteen. That was the time that I had been in contact with my father… I had also experienced a bad break up from a seriously bad relationship. I had no one around me at the time, and I felt so hopeless, so I drowned forty pills (pain killers) with a bottle of tequila. That kept me throwing up for days on end, until I was just coughing up blood.

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