Continuing. . . . .

We as humans are quick to pass critical judgement upon our peers and elders, but we're almost always reluctant to point our fingers at the reflection in the mirror. We're too afraid of what flaws everyone will see through the body paint and blonde highlights. We seek perfection and fall short of it because we fail to realize our flaws are an important part in the humanity that is our closest aspect of perfection.
So I'm here to shatter the mold, to kick in the door of human reluctance. I'm not a scene queen, a blogging whore, or an emo kid; I'm human. and I've stopped fighting that unchangeable fact. No, I'm not the smallest or prettiest girl you'll ever meet, and I probably won't be able to leave you utterly speechless, but I can guarantee I'll leave you thinking. No, I'll never be totally sane, and I will always be sort of melodramatic, but I've accepted that. I have my life's struggles that I deal with every day, and a lot of the time I don't complain about them. But it's my turn to cry about my problems for a moment. You'll get your chance in a little while, I promise.

+ On a daily basis, I have to make myself eat at least one meal a day. I used to be obsessed with shrinking down to little more than skin, bone, and internal organs. I was, and still am, rather critical of my body type, and I was diagnosed with anorexia the fifth time I passed out in three months. My poor diet, or lack thereof, contributed to the development and severity of my hypoglycemia, and it certainly didn't help another condition I'll go into in a moment. My body began eating itself, deteriorating any muscle I had and even picking at my bones. Despite my efforts to correct this disease of mine, it is oftentimes difficult to tear myself out of that mindset. I'm slowly killing myself, but that's okay, right?

+ I have steadily grown worse about the cutting aspect of my self-injury. The relapse began with a tiny cut or two every second or third day, but now it is amounting to an average of maybe fifteen or so every single night. I've stopped attacking my arms because they're always visible at work, choosing to instead wound my stomach and thighs. Even then, the seriousness of each individual cut is growing as well. I truly am slowly killing myself, even worse than I have been these last four years. Because of cutting, though, with my frequent blood loss, I developed anemia, which means I have a low red blood cell count and the red cells I do have aren't carrying as much iron as they should. This is why I'm so pale and cold to the touch.

And surprisingly, I'm not finished, but I am for now.

Honesty is the Best Policy

Hello, my dears. I haven't posted anything at all in quite some time because, honestly, I haven't felt very positive. Honestly, I've felt like a bunch of shit. I've been pushed away by my friends and the people I care most about. I've been silenced despite the fact I still listen. I've been given nothing but resentment and broken promises, and I've been swallowing a lot.

So, today I'm going to speak to whomever will listen, write to whatever eyes will read. I have been hiding a lot of things behind big smiles and funny words, but when I'm alone I find myself hating everything I've become. I've become meek and fake, obsessed with not letting people know what was eating at me, and frantically trying to keep my mask all nice and shiny. I hate that. I hate me.

I don't want this, I don't want any of this. What I really want is the person or people who will love me unconditionally, who will listen when I ramble and rant, but will also tell me their own problems without me having to interrogate them too much. I feel like I don't mean enough to the people I adore, because they won't let me in. I feel like I can't do anything to help anyone, including myself. I feel like I'm falling into that pit of black despair that has haunted me since day one.

I don't want to be that friend that you 'love' but will never truly love. I don't want to be that friend you'll 'be there for' that doesn't really exist to you. I don't want to be that friend that will understand when you can't follow through on your promises. I don't want to be the friend you always brush aside for other plans. I want to be important, to mean something to someone, instead of another bleeding heart with a dozen fresh cuts every night. I don't want to become that uncontrollable monster I was before. . . . . . I don't want to die this time.

When We Take Over. . . . .

We are the next generation of a world that's growing colder, more accepting of the things that used to give us nightmares. Our fathers accepted this, swallowed it and walked with it in their pocket, despite the fact most of them didn't approve or like the direction the world was going. They bore it because of tradition, some for tradition's sake alone. However, they've grown weary, and they're preparing to pass their load on to us. We will take the world from them. We don't have to follow tradition, though. We can change the world, rid it of its bitterness.

But how? How do we change the world? Surprisingly enough, the answer is quite simple. All you really have to do is raise your voice. Fight for what you believe in, but fight with words, with pure knowledge. Save your brothers and sisters; don't lead them astray or let them wander. Be a beacon of Hope, and be determined to right what was wrong. Shout for your cause and let your voice echo, even in the emptiest hearts. Be that change your fathers wouldn't be.

If the Past Resurfaces, Smile and See How You've Grown

Starvation is my personal salvation.
It won me this little continuation
Of a book I'd left unread,
Another song stuck in my head,
A realization of my mortality
At the price of some vitality.

Such a small price to pay
For a life so great.
Picutre this: scars on my arms
But smiles in their hearts,
For I'm laughing, joking like I used to
And they don't know what I do.

Yes, I do know the consequences
Of crossing bridges and leaping fences
But what's a few wounds between friends?
It's nothing another joke can't mend.
You may not approve of these little habits
But it's better than dying, isn't it?

I can't help but believe
These things are helping me relieve
The stress and hurt pent up inside,
Preventing my actual suicide.
Yes, not eating will show my bones
But I'm not like modern cell phones

Shrinking and shrinking till there's nothing left.
Wait, it was the scars you said you liked best?
Well, there's plenty; take a few and leave me the rest.
Then I'll cry and bleed in my prettiest dress
So you can see the extent of my distress.
Sometimes you have to free your pets.

This is something I had written a year ago. This was the result of my surprising relief when people didn't ask questions about the scars, the wounds, or the lack of eating. Yeah, that was me. I was suffering from both cutting and anorexia, both of which are types of self-injury. I found it moments ago in my room when I was looking through the papers on my cluttered desk. I had been looking for something in particular, but when I found and read this, I stopped looking and came back to post this. Why, you ask? Simple. That was me then. Relieved about the lack of questions bombarding me, trying to justify what it was I was doing to myself. Look at me now. I'm struggling now to heal from those things, but not to forget. And here I am fighting to raise awareness to the healing and prevention of self-injury, which was a demon that has been holding onto me for four years. I want you to ask questions. I want you to open your eyes and see what's standing in front of you. If you can't see what I'm pointing to, then I'll tell you. Standing in front of you is a living, breathing testimony. Standing here before your eyes is what you can be if you take hold of the hope that has been sent your way. You can be healed too. You can turn your weakness into a strength for others. You don't have to cut, burn, or starve yourself. You can stop. It isn't easy, but just imagine the things you can do once you've attained that goal. Imagine. Gosh, it takes my breath away, honestly, to think of what any of you can do. You can turn your terrible experience into a tool for leading others to the same light you yourself found. Just touch the hope. Embrace it. Love it. Hope is here, like I always say. And it can save you. You just have to know its name, its origins. You just have to embrace it, love it, and live for it. For Him. Through Christ I can do all things, and you can too.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go all religious without warning, but you knew this was coming. This is what I'm about; healing through faith in Christ. He is the only way. He is the Hope. The Hope is here.

Without Our Eyes, We Can't See

People tend to be extremely judgmental and rather biased in their vague opinions of others, as well as of the world around them. We don't seem to be able to comprehend that which we cannot see; we're blind in this world, and we touch but don't feel, we shout but don't hear, and we wait for miracles without opening our blurred eyes. Our whole race is a handicap to the rest of the world, a disastrous distraction that can't see the harm we're causing to ourselves and the world around us.

No, I'm not going on a tree-hugger's rant. I am more concerned about the damage people do to those around them simply because they are either too pig-headed, too selfish, or too arrogant to notice or too heartless and cold to care. Well, I for one am tired of being hurt. I'm tired of watching as others get walked all over. I'm tired of seeing the pain hidden carefully behind smiling eyes. I'm tired of having to see the blood of victims spilled without a proper cause. I'm tired of reading headlines about another bullet to the skull of the kid no one cared about.

Make a difference in someone's life. Don't be the reason they want to hurt themselves or even kill themselves. Be their Hope. Without hope, we're totally lost in the world, and hopelessness is not a fun feeling. I, for one, know what that feels like, and seven hundred scars later, here I stand, hoping for something more. Smile at those you don't like, laugh with those you do, but most importantly, love all of them. Have honest conversations and help where you can. You and I, we can make a difference. Hope is here. You just have to embrace it.