Behind a Pretty Face.

You know those girls you see and your first thought is how stuck up they are?

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2. I Hate It

I wait till I have a shower, bring out my blade an sit in the bottom of my shower and cut my thighs or sometimes when I can't sleep and can't stop crying I lay there with the thoughts that make me bring out my blade and slice open my skin. People ask why I hurt myself but how do I explain to someone who has never self-harmed that it controls me? That I feel as I need to cut, I need to feel something. I told him I threw out my blades but how could I do that when there the only things that will never leave me. People call me perfect or beautiful but how can I ever be beautiful with scars covering my body. How can I be perfect when my thoughts are consumed with the thought of blood dripping from open wounds all over my body? You don't realise the thoughts that I have, you may not see the scars or the wounds because I don't want you to. I smile when I cut now; I actually smile as I see the blood drip and the tingle I get

As I move. What would you think of me if I told you this? Would you still see me as perfect or would you say I'm disgusting?

I cut open my skin daily but I will never tell you, because I have no reason for doing it. It's not an attention thing, but I don't want help. I'm okay with what I do to myself and I'm okay with the fact I will always be covered in scars for my whole life.

I look like a normal teenage girl, brown hair, brown eyes just plain and Normal. But what I am I side in a lot different.

I can't stop this feeling I have, as if I need it. The pain I feel run threw my veins. The blade ripping through my skin and the white flesh you see before the blood spills out. How do I stop this feeling of want, I just wish to be normal. I don't want to be controlled by these thoughts but I don't want them to stop them. There the only thing that makes me feels like me. Without them I would be nothing. These thoughts make me who I am, no these thoughts are me. I'll never tell you what my mind says because then I know you will want to change me. I know one day I'll cut to deep and I might die but that's a risk I'm willing to take. If it means I could die tomorrow I'm sure you won't miss me, I think you will better with me gone, no hassle of a daughter, and no worry about waking me up for school. You won't need to buy clothes for me or food, you are better off without me.

I sit here after cutting my hand, feeling the sting as it bleeds and as I type this I can feel my fresh cut tingling and bleeding. I enjoy this pain, it makes me feel good. I have no reason to do this to myself, but the loneliness I feel within even though I am sitting here with my friends. They don't notice how I feel they see me smile a think I'm fine. I love smiling; no one asks what's wrong so there's no need to make up lies. You may all think I have something wrong with me, but this is how I''ve been most of my life and I've accepted that.

People ask why I do it but how do I explain that the depression inside me takes over and I feel worthless and unloved so much I wish to take my life. I would never hurt someone else. Ever.

When I was 10 I was bullied, I have never been good at making friends. I was feed up with school and refused to go at times or I would go home early. I eventually moved schools; I still got bullied but not as badly. I started cutting at age 10, I couldn't deal with the thoughts that crept into my mind, and I believed everything the bully's ever said about me. One little scratch turned into two and then three, slowly they got deeper. I won' ask for help. My mother only realised last year that I self-harm. I never intend to tell her the truth. She has sent me to counselling, but it never helps. Whenever I stop an urges builds up inside me, and one day I can't keep it down. I cut. I as blame myself for my father walking out on my mum. She tells me is not my fault but if I was never born they would be still together, I was the reason he left. I have three brothers; none of them know what I do. I love my brothers, they may not know it but they are the only thing in life that can put a real smile on my face. Without them I may not be around right now. I will never let them see what I have become and I will never let it happen to them.

It takes over me, this depression. I can't help but feel like slicing open my skin whenever someone brings up anything about cutting. I can't control the urges. How do I explain that I can't stop or it will build up and I might just end up hurting myself in new ways? I do this because I'm unhappy with my life I can never make my parents happy or being able to help my parents when the need it. I can never fully make my parents happy; I am there only daughter but I am there only failure in life. I am no longer there little girl, I am what killed that little girl.

My pillow covered in blood, i hate seeing doctors. They think the know everything.

As i sat in the waiting room I started feeling jittery, i couldnt sit still i kept moving and by the time i was in the office talking to the doctor i was stuttering and moving in my seat, i dont stutter ever. mum was going off her head as he tried to tell her i dont have depression or anxiaty but only adhd. he isnt my normal doctor, i dont think he can read my file propably. I couldnt stop scratching my wrist or lets. I needed to cut but i couldnt mum was there and soon after she wante me to have something to eat. i dont like eating. i rally want to. she made me eat then i felt even worse about myself. my brain was going crazy, i needed to calm down but nothing was working. Mum wanted to go to my parent teacher night, it was all good im an ace student.

when we finally got home my brain wasnt funcaning i was going to explode. I went to my room and cut my arm, i went crazy i didnt relise till after how bad its gotten. I think i may have about a hundred or so. i have to go see adoctor again next week and im not excited at all, he'll want to see my cuts and scars he'll ask if ill do it again. how can i say no. if icant even keep a promise with my mum. I think they might send me to a hospital maybe. if i stop cutting i uncontually stop eaating. i always harm myself in some way with out realising it. I must be going crazy or mad. I enjoy the feeling or cutting and not eating. reasonly ive been called perfect alot. I hate it. I want to be perfect so much, i look in the mirror and only see the oppisite. how can you all stand to look at me. how can you think im perfect or pretty.

i found out my brothers where aware of what i did to myself. I told them they ever do it I'll be pissed. their only answer was why would we, we arent stupid. that broke me. my own brothers call me stupid. I was reasonly told, cutting is disgusting but a guy i started to like, that broke me too. He pretty much called me disgusting, he was right i am. my body is, my scars are and so are my thoughts. why wont you all just let me die. wont it be easier i wont be annoying you all with my disgisusting habits.

I love how i feel so alone, people say they love me and care but then why are they letting me sit here typing what could be possably my last entre. I want someone to look me in the eye and say everything is going to be okay and hug me. even though i know it wont be. I want slice open my other arm tonight. I might just do it to.

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