If any of you is triggered with this kind of post, please don’t read this, because this thing is bugging me right now.
So, it was a nice evening. I was doing my homework, listening to some classic musics while scrolling through my Instagram timeline.
I was really annoyed by the new Instagram update, which made it looks like Snapchat minus the dog filter. So, after I did my homework, I opened all of the stories from my friends.
One of the story that my friend uploaded was a picture of her arm with cut marks on it with the caption, ‘why not’.
After I saw this, my heart completely dropped. Not because I felt pity for my friend, but because my friend is completely a heartless, stupid person who doesn’t understand what people might think about it and maybe triggered with that.
She drew the marks with her marker or something. And that made me realize that people (or teenage) these days think that self-harming and depression are like a cool thing to experience. They think it’s like a cool Tumblr thing to do, to take a picture of it and then upload it and be like, “Oh, hey, I just harmed myself with a razor.”
Self-harm is not a fun thing, self-harm is not an entertaining thing to do.
I know what it feels like, that voice inside your head that tells you to harm yourself over and over again.
I almost did it. It was a year ago, I guess, when I had lots of problems in my life; about my family that I thought didn’t love me anymore, about my grades that dropped constantly, about my life that has never been the way I want it to.
Why didn’t I talk about it to someone? Because I don’t trust anyone. I feel like I never fully tell someone my point-of-view story, about my actual life. I always be the listener, the one that always listens to someone patiently without saying anything, in hope that they will do the same for me. But, no. So literally no one knows about my problems, because there’s like a barrier between them and me: trust issues.
That night, I walked to my mum’s bathroom. I saw that shiny razor near the cupboard, my heart was beating so fast. I took it, and carefully I placed it on the palm of my hand. I was like seeing my life past in front of me, and it was the worst thing I could ever imagine. I thought about my parents, what if they know about it. Will they be sad, or angry, or disappointed? I thought about my friends, the ones that I laugh with, and play with. Will they ready to comfort me, or will they look at me in disgust?
I cried, and I squeezed my hand to a fist. Blood started to drop, and I let go of the razor. It was the worst day in my life, and my parents don’t know about it, so I’m good.
We all have gone through that phase, the time that we have lots of problems and we don’t know what to do. Some people figure out their way and solve their problems, and the others can’t do the same, and one of the things that popped in their mind when they can’t solve their problem is, “You’re nothing, you’re not worth it, kill yourself.”
Well, of course they won’t kill themselves, but they would and could harm themselves. They’d covered the marks because they don’t want people around them see it and get disgusted on them.
I don’t have any suggestion, but I can say that you don’t have to do it. You don’t have to harm yourself. Don’t listen to the demon inside your head, they will disappear if you ignore them. Don’t do it if you don’t want to disappoint the people that you love. If you want to do it, just think of them, because they have loved you before you love them.
If you’re reading this, whoever you are, you can have my words, that if anything happens to you and you don’t want to tell anyone, you can tell me, because my ears are ready to listen and I’m ready to comfort you even if we’re miles away from each other.
Why do I have to trust you, Pris?
Because we’re family, and I love you all. I won’t disappoint you, so don’t disappoint me.