I'm Shelly. I'm depressed. This is how I feel every day. I hate seeing others suffer with these types of things. If you don't know others stories, I suggest you don't judge them. You could see the most beautiful, happiest person ever, and think they're perfect, but chances are they're not. They could be just like me, just like you. Struggling with everyday, waking up not wanting to be here. Wanting to just end it all. You could say I live in the future, to make it blunt, it's the only reason i'm still here. If you ever need someone to talk to, but don't have anyone, please come to me. Days clean-self harm: [40] Post limit: [ ]
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Lonely nights.
Lonely nights are the worst. The quietness surrounding you turns to evil whispers, trying to convince you to pick up the blade. You cringe at the thought, looking back on how far you've made it. At first you're hesitant, and then you start to remember. You remember how good it felt; to make a few cuts, and how instant the relief was. "Just make one little cut, no one will know." The whisper echoes deep into your ear, wrapping itself around your mind. Without hesitation you make a quick cut on your thigh. You watch the blood slowly surface, and turn to scarlet red beads that all connect. You repeat the process a couple more times. You stop for a moment and look at your thigh. You begin to ask yourself, if what you're doing is really worth it. Before getting too involved in the thought the whispers return, stronger than before. "Just three more, you've already slipped." Once again, you give in. Completely this time. You let the whispers take over, providing you with instant relief. When you return to reality you realize you've made a mess, bigger than usual. So you pick it up and go lie in your bed.
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126 now, haven’t eaten in three days, todays going to be my fourth, I still look huge but my BMI is a pound away from “anorexic”
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