And I don’t want the world to see me, because I don’t think that they’d understand 


When everything is made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am

​I cut for 10 years, starting when I was 9 years old. From 9-19 it was an almost-every day thing. All over my body. Sometimes I’d have cut so deep or so much that pieces of my flesh would just tear and separate and I’d have holes in my body. I have scars from stiches on my arms. Don’t you dare tell me that placement is either “I’m doing it for depression” or “this means you’re only doing it for attention.” ANY mark on your own body is a cry for help. 

Sometimes I’d cut on my arms because I had no more space to cut open my thighs, stomach, etc. I don’t know a single person, personally, that has ever cut, that did it because they’re “just seeking attention. They just want sympathy.” They do it because they have nowhere else to turn. They feel lost, hopeless, defeated, and worthless. Not because it’s trendy. I used to cut because I’d be so consumed by anxiety and depression I didn’t even know which way was up. “When everything feels like a movie, and you bleed just to know you’re alive” have been so fucking true for me. It was my way to transfer my psychological pain and suffering into a tangible experience. I could literally watch and feel that pain, that hurt, that desperation come to the surface and bleed away. I would cut wherever I had open space, and at that point I didn’t care who saw. I was so far gone in my own head battling demons that I could give a shit less if my mom or teacher or friend saw it. Do you know how that feels? To go from hiding it to not giving a shit enough, to having so much pain that you just needed to get it out, and you didn’t care what or how that’d make someone else feel? I didn’t cut for you to feel sorry for me, I did it because I felt so low and angry and anxious and depressed and ashamed and I did not have a healthy or loving way to deal with those emotions or intrusive thoughts. Your sympathy is the last thing I was concerned with or wanted. Honestly, at that point, the world could’ve ended and I still would’ve done it. It had nothing to do with others, it was all me and the war going on inside my own head.

If you have cut or are cutting, please do not dismiss someone else’s struggles because they aren’t the same as yours or choose to struggle differently than you. Sometimes, when it does get that bad that you are seeing their scars, sometimes it means they’re so far gone and don’t know how to stop and ask for help. Instead of judging or dismissing them, offer support and encouragement.  

I really hope that everyone that is struggling with self injury can take a moment and try to remember that this pain is temporary. This pain is not who you are. You have so much more to offer the world. You are worth more than whatever negative self talk you tell yourself. You are not your scars. You are so much more than this. It does get better. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and you are it. 

It is not an easy road to recovery. You won’t wake up one day and just not do it or not think of doing anymore. It is a constant fight. I still struggle, 10 years later. I have come so close to relapsing many, many times. Some as recent as last night. But I have decided that I am worth more than my depression. Depression is not who I am. Cutting is not who I am. I am Ashley, and I have so much to offer the world. I truly care about everyone struggling with self harm. If you EVER feel like someone doesn’t care, or if you want to stop and just can’t, please, please, please message me. *I* care about *you* and I’m willing to fight for and with anyone that doesn’t feel like they’re able to fight for themselves on their own.


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