Tag Archives: mental health

Nov18

Happy

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Happy

Hellooo everyone and happy Hump Day! So yesterday I had an interaction with my beloved father that made me very Happy. I was having a hell of an awful day and after a complaining vent session to my dear old dad he said one sentence that made me feel infinitely better. Let’s discuss:

On Tuesday I was a frazzled mess. I was stressed from an abundance of school work and a full day of acting as the taxi driver to both of my siblings who currently can’t drive. I was up at the butt crack of dawn to leave my boyfriend’s house and get home in time to take my brother to work and my day never slowed down once.

After I returned home from my brethren’s place of employment I had a few precious hours to cram in some homework before I had to pick him up. So back into the Little Red Love Machine I went to collect him. But did it end there? NO, of course not! As soon as I dropped my bro off, it was time to pick up my sister from work and then go on a wild goose chase of an errand with her. This excursion resulted in some highway driving during peak traffic time, bathroom breaks at a Dairy Queen, and turning my car around to pick up forgotten items. Lord have mercy on me.

By the time that I got home from my running around crazy driving day that should have been a sitting around crazy homework day I was exhausted and I needed to vent STAT. I went into the living room where my dad was sitting on his recliner chair that’s so old his butt is imprinted into it and plopped myself down on the ottoman beside it. Once I was comfortable I opened fire on my busy day of chauffeuring siblings every which way. By the end of my five or so minute rant I was out of breath and even more flustered and then my dad simply said, “you’re doing a good job, Sarah”.

My dad countered my monologue of irritation, frustration, and aggravation with a one sentence answer that made me feel SO much better. These past few weeks I’ve been feeling very unappreciated in the family and yesterday felt like the “tip of the iceberg” as far as that situation goes. My father told me exactly what I needed to hear at the perfect time and afterwards I felt like a whole new person. My day got brighter (even though it was already pitch black out) and my outlook on all of my stresses in life did a complete 180. It. Was. Awesome.

Everyone needs a reminder every now and then that they’re doing a-okay in this crazy world and thanks to my dad giving that to me, I feel reassured and so much more confident about my life and the choices that I’m making. It made me feel so insanely Happy. I hope all of you are having a wonderful day so far! How is everyone’s week going? Who’s watching American Horror Story tonight?! I wanna hear from all of you, so leave me a comment and let’s chat! Much love. -Sarah

Aug30

Loser

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Loser

Whatsup everyone and happy Sunday! So yesterday night my darling friend, Tyler, and I were FaceTiming and we had a very enlightening conversation that I would like to share with you. Sit back, enjoy this ironic choice of music, and let’s discuss:

During my chat with Tyler we both were expressing to each other how happy we our with our lives for the most part. This cued us to reminisce on high school and just how much it fucking sucked for the both of us. Saying that we had it rough during the supposed “best years of our lives” is a severe understatement. I had to laugh at one point with him, because this weekend I was interviewing a lovely girl for a new piece on lifewithlilred and she said something along the lines of how she always wanted to be my friend in high school because she thought I was really cool. When I told Tyler this, I followed it with “I don’t understand why, I was the biggest burnout, depressed loser ever in high school”.

After we chortled at my pathetic expense (lol), Tyler told me something that I thought was very profound. “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing being a loser in high school. I mean yeah, it sucked, but I feel like we both appreciate things so much more now”. I seriously couldn’t agree more. Tyler and I are both insanely pleased with where we’re at right now, which made how all of the “cool kids” from high school are doing now worth mentioning. It definitely seems like the tables have turned in a way, with the losers running the world and the cool kids stuck in their still in high school mentality. I’m not gonna lie, this is very gratifying!

The moral of the story? If you are or were a “loser” in high school – don’t fret, because your time to blossom is legitimately right around the corner. All you have to do is wait just a little bit longer and you’re going to be on cloud nine in no time. Now I get that saying to play the waiting game is easier said than done. No one knows how bad high school can suck more than me. But I promise you this, a happier life as a twenty-something is worth the wait. So for the time being: keep your chin up, grin and bear it, and know that two of the biggest losers that the high school world has ever seen are doing just fine now.

^^^ It seemed appropriate. 😉

I hope all of you are having a fabulous weekend chock full of lots of fun stuff! Can anyone relate to this post? Where are the cool kids and losers that you were in high school with at now? I wanna hear from all of you, so leave me a comment and let’s chat! Much love. -Sarah

Jul14

Sarah’s Sanity Update: Volume 2

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Sarah’s Sanity Update: Volume 2

Helloooo everyone and happy Tuesday! I hope all of you are having a great start to your week. I’m doing okay, in case you were wondering. This past week or so I’ve been stuck in this horrible rut of falling just below average as far as how I’m feeling goes. This sub-par cycle that I’ve been in sucks ass…It’s honestly more annoying than anything. Let’s discuss. (Warning: This post contains references to self harm and eating disorders. If that makes you uncomfortable, feel free not to read!)

^^^ It seemed appropriate since we’re going with a Britney motif this post!

So yes, it’s been an annoying week. I’m quite shocked that I’m feeling so blah because when I went to my psychiatrist at the beginning of the month she doubled my dose of Effexor. Now I’m on a considerably high amount and I still don’t feel much of a difference. I suppose in the mornings when I first take my pill I feel pretty good but then by the time late afternoon rolls around I’m ready to throw in the towel for the day. What sucks about these random weeks of feeling shitty is that when I start feeling upset is when I start getting all of these persistent urges to cut or purge…Don’t worry, I haven’t – but it’s SO hard not to. It’s really fucking exhausting, actually. Can you imagine going through the day with thoughts of self harm constantly swarming around your mind like flies? Welcome to my world.

The frustration that comes with this is what bothers me the most because I rarely do succumb to my temptations but they’re always there in the back of my mind no matter what. It seriously feels like a damned if I do and damned if I don’t situation. I mean, I always feel a sense of guilt after the euphoria of a self harm incident but not doing it brings me these insufferable weeks in which self harm is all I think about. I’m so glad that I built up my willpower by going months on end without an incident because if not I would be royally fucked on weeks like this. I feel like my mind is going a million miles a minute and all the while I’m running around like a mad woman trying to keep myself occupied so I can keep my thoughts at bay…It’s no wonder why I’m exhausted.

I know that I should probably go to therapy to help me cope better with my urges but I have this stupid stubborn mindset that if I’m not indulging then I’m okay. My old psychiatrist used to get on me like no other to see a therapist and I always told her that I would, but then I would end up convincing myself that I was fine. I hate admitting that I need help more than anything. I feel like when I start showing signs of instability at home is when I start getting babied and monitored and I despise that. Now when I’m having a hard time I just try to do my best at covering it up. Because I’m such a hard-headed little brat I probably won’t be going to therapy anytime soon but I’m so thankful that I have my blog to express how I’m feeling. I always feel a lot better after a good writing session so thanks for letting me vent!

sanity

Well I must be getting back to the ol’ Tri-C grind so I will talk to you all later! Until then, is anyone experiencing something similar to what I’m going through right now? If so, what are some of the coping skills that you utilize? I wanna hear from all of you, so leave me a comment and let’s chat! Much love. -Sarah

Jul9

Single 4 Lyfe

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Single 4 Lyfe

Heyyy everyone and happy Thursday! So I had a kind of funny experience at a doctors appointment last week that really got me thinking. When the doctor asked my marital status “single for life” came out instead of just “single”. It was such a silly blunder that I got a major laugh out of it but it also got me wondering why fabulous Lil Red is forever alone. This somewhat depressing questioning of myself brought me into a little slump – but then I remembered a few things about myself which ended up reminding me that the best person for me is ME!

1) If anyone is a “One Woman Wolf Pack” then it’s definitely me. You guys might not believe it but I actually dislike a vast majority of people. Surprise! (That’s why I like hanging out with myself, which I fondly refer to as my “one person party”. Welcome to a day in the life, boi.)

2) I’ve never really had a legitimate “boyfriend” or “girlfriend” – just people who I hang around with for a bit until they fuck me over in some way shape or form…Or I get bored. I can’t think of one positive experience that I’ve had with anyone who I’ve casually dated. That’s sad. I also don’t really like being around people whose intentions I can’t read. (As well as people in general). See point one and three. Honestly, I don’t even know how to girlfriend. Like, what do you do? Do you shave the hair on your toes? Do you wear extra deodorant? To fuck if I know.

3) I love myself…Like a lot. Therefore, I don’t like putting myself into situations where I’m bound to get hurt (IE: Every relationship ever). I’m very protective of me! Good looking out, Sarah. Thanks, Sarah.

4) When I want a guy or a girl to acknowledge me I just call myself pretty and take a bubble bath. Works like a charm.

5) I’m not willing to share my Taco Bell with anyone. (I don’t share SHIT.)

titanic

This post was actually supposed to be serious originally but once I started writing I realized that I didn’t want to be one of those annoying twenty-somethings complaining about being single. Thus, a humorous look at Sarah’s Singlehood was born in “Single 4 Lyfe”. So what did this remembrance of some basic truths about Lil Red teach me? That I should probably just start dating myself. Welp…Here it goes…

  • Myself: “Sarah, will you go out with me?”
  • Myself: “Sure.”

SCORE!!!!!!!!!!

I hope that all of you are having an awesome day so far! I also hope that you got a good laugh out of this post! Shout out to all of my forever aloners out there – I’m right there with you! What was the shortest lived relationship that you ever had? What was one if your worst dating experiences? I wanna hear from all of you, so leave me a comment and let’s chat! Much love. -Sarah

Jul4

Sarah’s Sanity Update

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Sarah’s Sanity Update

Whatsup everyone and Happy Fourth Of July to those that celebrate! So this past week I finally met with a new psychiatrist after I had a disappointing falling out with my old pill pusher of seven years. Long story short, my final appointment with her resulted in me walking out and her never refilling my prescriptions. This ended up being a major shit show because I desperately needed my sleeping pills and antidepressants refilled because my prescription was almost gone. I only had about two days worth of medicine at the time and then I was donezo until I could get someone to fill my prescription. Multiple phone calls were made to my old psychiatrist’s office but she never followed through and at that point I was fresh out of my pills. I’ve been on a very high dose of Trazodone for years because I literally can’t sleep without it and I’ve been on Effexor for close to a year for depression and anxiety. And because my doctor was an asshole, I was without my medicine for almost an entire week….It was legitimately the worst time of my life.

I think people think that I’m exaggerating when I say that I can’t sleep without my pills – but I can’t sleep without my pills. In the five days that I was without my Trazodone I probably slept a total of twelve hours or less. It’s that bad. Some nights I was up all night, other nights I was lucky to catch two hours of sleep. It was just so hard because on top of being completely exhausted from little to no sleep, I was starting to feel the effects of medication withdrawal as well. I went from taking my pills every day for years to stopping them completely without weening myself off. This resulted in flu like symptoms and I was basically in zombie mode for five days. It was honestly pretty scary. I felt like a shell of myself. I was so weak and so fucking tired. I looked like a straight up junkie – my eyes looked hollowed out from the dark circles that appeared from lack of sleep and I had no appetite so I was barely eating which made me look very frail and paler than usual. I was a hot, hot mess. Thankfully on day six of no meds, the emergency psychiatrist on call at a local hospital looked through my files and felt comfortable refilling my prescriptions. She was seriously an angel and that first night of being able to sleep again was the most amazing thing in the entire world.

That paragraph doesn’t even begin to describe the physical turmoil and mental exhaustion that my sleepless nights resulted in thanks to my ex-psychiatrist. So when I met with my new one this week and told her about what happened she was extremely sympathetic and began asking me more questions about my sleeping habits. She then diagnosed me with insomnia which was never brought up with my old doctor. I’ve always known that my sleeping problems were more severe than just the occasional sleepless night. Sometimes I can’t sleep even when I do take my medicine, which is enough Trazodone to knock out a horse. It was very comforting to have my issue diagnosed with an actual name. I never really brought up the “I word” with my old psychiatrist because I figured that after seven years she would have diagnosed me by now. So being seen by someone with a fresh pair of eyes who was able to address the problem within fifteen minutes of meeting me felt awesome. This brings me immense relief because now I know that no matter what psychiatrist I end up at in the next few years I’ll never have to argue to keep my dose of sleeping pills high or have to explain myself about it.

I definitely feel a lot better after meeting with my new psychiatrist and feel very comforted in knowing that I have this new diagnosis in my file now. I really liked my new doctor and am looking forward to my next appointment with her! I hope that all of you are having a fabulous day so far! Are you celebrating the Fourth Of July? Are you up to anything fun this weekend? I wanna hear from all of you, so leave me a comment and let’s chat! Much love. -Sarah

Jun25

Lil Red Path Of Righteousness

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Lil Red Path Of Righteousness

Whatupp everyone and happy Thursday! I feel like I’ve discussed a lot of really fun subjects lately, but have any of them really described how I’m personally feeling? (Other than drunk…welcome to the blog of a freshly turned twenty-one year old!) The answer is NO, so I figured now would be a good time to tell you all about the direction my life is heading in that I so lovingly bestowed the title the Lil Red Path Of Righteousness upon. What is the #LRPOR you might ask? I’m so glad you did!

What it is: The LRPOR is the way that I choose to live my life…Or am trying to live my life, anyways. It’s all about accepting where I am at the moment and not comparing myself to others. I find that one of my biggest character flaws is constantly playing the compare and contrast game with people – friends, family, complete strangers…and that needs to stop ASAP. No one but me knows what’s right for me, so I need to start trusting my own judgement more because I’m actually a lot smarter than I give myself credit for. I’m honestly a lot more of everything than I give myself credit for – pretty, personable, witty, talented…But I’m such a modest person and sometimes my self esteem isn’t the best so I need to start showing myself a bit more love. Because the LRPOR is a lifestyle focus on self acceptance I’m hoping that my self esteem will get to a steady place. My fingers are also crossed that with this new habit of embracing myself that my urges to self harm or purge will diminish. I haven’t had any incidents of mutilation in a while, but unfortunately I still think about it a lot. The constant battle of willpower to not cut or vomit is exhausting so if the urges were to decrease even slightly, then that would be a victory in itself. So not only is the Lil Red Path Of Righteousness a way to get me to appreciate myself but it’s also a safety plan to keep my urges at bay. It’s a win, win, win, win situation!

^^^ Current blogging soundtrack!

lilred

^^^ #lilred #beentrill

So is success from following on the Lil Red Path Of Righteousness going to happen over night? No. But I’m glad I have a game plan for the time being! Now all I can do is continue to walk along the LRPOR (which I like to think of as a red bricked road) and keep on doing my best! I hope all of you are having a fabulous day so far! What’s a personal lifestyle choice that you follow? Do you have a name for it? I wanna hear from all of you, so leave me a comment and let’s chat! Much love. -Sarah

May25

Monday Update: Mehhh Edition

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Monday Update: Mehhh Edition

Heyyy everyone and happy Memorial Day! (Warning: This post contains references to eating disorders – if that makes you uncomfortable feel free not to read!)

So I’ve been having an admittedly rough time with food lately. I’ve been restricting a lot and the worst part is, is that it doesn’t really bother me…which isn’t good at all. It’s so bad how it’s almost fun to me to see how long I can go without having a bite to eat. During the day I’ll drink at least one glass of a beverage with calories in it like lemonade or orange juice so I can get some sugar in me, but other than that I feel like I’ve put myself back on the “no meal a day” diet – along with a lot of cigarettes. I feel like this struggle would bother me a lot more if I wasn’t seeing visible physical changes every day that I go without food…more prominent collarbones, protruding hip bones – I straight up revel in the pleasure I get from looking in the mirror and seeing something other than fat. During my years of being bulimic, I always told myself that I could never dabble in anorexic behaviors because I didn’t have the will power to do it. But now that I have achieved going days in a row without eating it’s almost like I’ve gained a new skill which is weirdly exciting to me. I remember when the celebrity Meghan Trainer got a lot of backlash for saying that she wasn’t “strong enough” to be anorexic – and she’s right…it’s not a weak mans disorder, so the fact that I have the mental strength that some people just don’t have makes me feel good. Yesterday when I got home in the evening I told myself I would eat, but the thought of eating was disgusting to me and I lost my appetite. I’m one of those people who physically can’t eat if I’m not hungry – I just can’t do it, so when I got home and my appetite was completely gone, I saw no point in making myself eat. Anorexia was always an appealing disorder to me during my extreme cutting and bulimic stages because it was something that no one else would really notice. Losing weight is a good thing to most people, so the disorder could go unrecognized as opposed to the obvious slashed wrists or retching in the bathroom. You guys are probably reading this and thinking about how “crazy” I am and yada yada yada – and I know I’m not making the best choices for myself…But unfortunately, I find joy in these poor decisions which makes it even harder to stop. I know I keep saying that I should go to therapy, but it’s just so unappealing to me. I’m not interested in digging up my past for the millionth time with a different therapist out of the countless ones that I’ve seen before. It really is a cycle of complete misfortune, jumping from one method of self harm to the next – but I just haven’t the faintest idea on what to do when I feel like nothing but beating myself up makes me feel better. Ugh, sorry guys that was so heavy but I really needed to vent…I always find it easy to be super open with my thoughts, struggles, and the way I’m feeling – but it was especially easy typing this considering my iTunes has been playing the most emo music in my collection on shuffle for the past half hour. Lol, shameful.

-____________-

I hope all of you guys are having a fabulous Memorial Day! Do you have any exciting plans for the day? How was everyone’s weekend? I want to hear from all of you, so leave me a comment and let’s chat! Much love. -Sarah

May2

Food Glorious Food

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Food Glorious Food

Hellooo everyone and happy Saturday! So as you guys know, these past few weeks have been pretty rough for Lil Red. I unfortunately resorted to some not so good habits as far as food goes. I was hella restricting what I ate every day for the past two weeks or so. I was only eating one small meal half way through the day and that was it. When I get stressed out I find comfort in heavily controlling my food consumption. For the first week or so it felt awesome having so much control over something even if it was as simple as how much I was eating. But on week two of my “one meal a day” diet, I was starting to feel absolutely miserable. I was exhausted, weak, and fucking starving. One incident that really stood out to me was when I was sitting at the kitchen table with my mom while she was eating lunch and I was eating nothing. She was having leftover Aladdin’s which is one of my all time favorite places to eat and I almost started crying looking at her plate of pita and felafel. My mouth filled with drool, my eyes were welling up with tears, and my stomach felt like it was going to collapse on itself with hunger. My mom kept offering me a bite and all I wanted to do was devour her whole plate, but instead I refused and ran up to my room to avoid the temptation. And don’t even get me started on watching my family enjoy a bowl of gorgeous strawberries that I told myself I “couldn’t” eat because it wasn’t part of my diet plan. All of the turmoil I was feeling from being surrounded by delicious food that I could look at but not touch always seemed to balance out when I would look in the mirror and see how skinny I was getting. I’m a small girl to begin with – 5’1 1/4 and barely over 110 pounds but I loved watching my body deteriorate into the “unhealthy” skinny territory. But then something changed. I was doing math homework this past Thursday and I felt like I was going to pass out. It was scary to feel like I was going to lose consciousness from sitting at the dining room table and feverishly writing out solutions to equations – that hardly counts as physically stimulating. Once my vision started going fuzzy and my head was pounding I stood up and made my way to the kitchen for something to eat, even though it wasn’t time for my only meal of the day. I opened the fridge and pulled out the plate of leftover vegetable enchiladas that I was fantasizing about for the past week and seriously couldn’t handle the anticipation of waiting for the food to heat in the microwave. Once my enchiladas were heated and I took my first bite I could literally feel the energy flowing back into my body. My head felt clear, the incessant rumbling in my stomach ceased, and the pounding sensation that I was feeling behind my eyeballs went away completely. After the enchilada incident, I decided that my “one meal a day” diet sucked ass and began to allow myself to eat more every day. The first few meals that I had afterwards were orgasmic. The microwave pizzas and bowls of cereal never tasted better. The glasses of milk never tasted creamier and don’t even get me started on the strawberries that I annihilated yesterday. Delicious. You never realize how amazing the food you’re eating tastes until you go to such extreme measures to restrict yourself from it. Even the not so good food was like a symphony on my taste buds. As I write this now, I anticipate lunch time with so much zeal and excitement I can barely focus. So I guess that means that it’s time to eat! Fuck a “one meal a day” diet!

I hope all of you guys are having an amazing day!! As you read in my last post, I’m going to see The Used tonight in Cleveland and I CAN’T WAIT!!! I’m looking forward to telling you guys all about it! What’s your favorite food in the whole wide world? What’s your favorite restaurant to eat at? I want to hear from all of you, so leave me a comment and let’s chat! Much love. -Sarah

Apr29

What Nobody Tells You (You, Me, & an Eating Disorder Makes Three)

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What Nobody Tells You (You, Me, & an Eating Disorder Makes Three)

Warning: This post contains references to eating disorders (as clearly stated in the title), if that makes you uncomfortable then don’t read it!

Hey there everyone and happy Hump Day! So I got a lot of really positive feedback from a bunch of people about my post What Nobody Tells You (A Self Harm Story), so I figured why not make an eating disorder edition as well. As most of you know already, I was an avid bulimic for over three years. I haven’t had a slip up in quite some time, but that doesn’t change the fact that purging crosses my mind constantly. There were so many things that I wish people would have told me before I started a downward spiral into an eating disorder, but I had to learn all of it on my own. So consider this post a battle tactic of me trying to scare any of you who are considering bulimia out of it – because it truly is a life ruiner. If someone would have told me everything I’m about to tell you, maybe my situation today would be a lot different. Nobody told me that my fingers would prune after twenty minutes of being shoved down my throat. Nobody told me that the smell of vomit would linger on my fingers if I didn’t pull them out if my mouth in time. Nobody told me how completely unglamorous bulimia was. It’s not a “super model” disorder by any means. There’s nothing beautiful about your back cowering over a toilet with a tear streaked face. There’s nothing sexy about yellow teeth and remnants of puke around your lips. Nobody ever told me that the sound of retching could be heard over the shower tap running, causing my mom to have to monitor my showers and when I used the restroom. Having your mom standing sentinel outside the bathroom door so you don’t puke your brains out is the polar opposite of living glamorously. No one told me that the dentist would be able to tell I was bulimic by the acid erosion on my teeth. No one told me that getting x-rays on my throat is recommended because I could be giving myself cancer of the esophagus. No one ever told me that all of the pleasure of eating would be wiped out completely once you sold your soul to throwing up after every meal. No one told me that constant acid reflux would leave my breath smelling like vomit all day. And most importantly, no one ever told me that my eating disorder would become an entirely separate entity. It controlled everything. What I ate, when I ate, who I ate around, absolutely no eating in public, how long I should puke for, how much I should try to puke out – the cycle was never ending. My eating disorder was a cruel, sick dictator who left me feeling worthless and disgusting and filled my mind with thoughts of purging as soon as food touched my lips. I wish I could say that I don’t think about vomiting a lot, but I do. Just like I mentioned with cutting, bulimia is something that I’m going to have to carry with me for my entire life. And just like cutting, it fucking sucks.

If you still feel the urge to purge even after reading my tidbits of what I personally learned from a long struggle with bulimia, then please also remember: Being bulimic can cause so many different types of cancer – the stomach, esophagus, and mouth just to name a few – so keep that in mind if you’re so much as considering starting a life altering and ultimately life shattering disorder.

Like I said earlier, I haven’t had any instances of bulimia for a while, which I am so thankful for. And please remember that I’m always here to talk if you need it and I urge you to get help with your destructive struggles from a friend or professional. Have a wonderful day! Much love. -Sarah

Apr28

What Nobody Tells You (A Self Harm Story)

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What Nobody Tells You (A Self Harm Story)

Warning: This post contains references to self harm, if it makes you uncomfortable – don’t read it!

As you guys know, I had a slip up this past week in my self harm sobriety. I realized that during quite a few of my posts I may have glamorized cutting in terms of the way it feels – referring to it as euphoric, heavenly, ect. And yes, it does feel that way to me, but there’s nothing glamorous by any means about it – or what you feel after the deed is done. I’ve seen countless posts and articles online that only discuss how cutting feels during the act of it, but nothing really mentions how you feel after. So let this post be a battle tactic for me to try and scare some of you guys out of even considering self harm for a second. Some people may think that self harm is a quick fix to all of your stressers, but the aftermath is only going to add on to your turmoil ten fold. No one tells you how the first shower you take after you cut burns your injuries like a thousand suns. No one tells you that when you dry your body off afterwards you have to be careful not to get any fibers from the towel in your wounds. No one tells you that your cuts remain an unsightly, infected red for days on end. No one told me that my skin around my incisions was going to get dry as it regenerates and flake off every time I touch it. No one ever told me that the waiting game for how long it will take your cuts to heal goes on for weeks on end. It’s been six days and I still have to disguise my arm with long sleeve shirts, hoodies, and jackets in the middle of spring. No one ever told me that wearing too many bracelets on your hurt wrist was a dead give away that you indulge in self harm – because no matter how hard you try to cover your cuts up, there’s always going to be just a little bit of a hardened scab showing through the beads. But most importantly, no one ever told me and probably has never told you about the looks of disappointment you get from loved ones if they happen to catch a glimpse of your war wounds. There’s nothing that makes me feel lower.

Feeling like you still might want to try to hurt yourself? Let me continue…

No one ever EVER tells you that one single cut can result in a lifetime of addiction. I started cutting when I was eleven or twelve and here I am almost nine years later still struggling. DO NOT end up like me – a twenty something who still fantasizes about hurting herself every time a major problem occurs. Because believe me, ten seconds of heaven is so not worth a constant every day struggle. It fucking sucks. I’ve had people ask me how I’m so comfortable being so open about my own personal situation on the world wide web, and if you’re asking that question about this particular post, then here’s my answer: I wish that someone told me everything that I mentioned above before I self harmed for the first time. Maybe then my situation today would be a lot different.

I hope all of you guys are having a fabulous Tuesday. If you’re struggling with anything at all, I urge you to confide in someone immediately. I’m starting up in therapy again soon and I’m pretty excited – but any confidant will do! And just know that I’m always, always here if you need someone to talk to! Much love. -Sarah