Novels About Self-harm Novels & Stories

She has spelt her evil intentions audibly for me to understand and my part is to submit to her whims. I release the grip of my teeth on my lower lip the moment the tinge got painful. I’ve been told not to self harm, it’ll be suspicious if I do. The thought of wounding myself to the point where I am hospitalised has crossed my mind several times daily, because at least in a hospital, I can choose who will have access to my room, but I can’t even hurt myself. I let out an exhale. Acting as if I’m fine when I’m not is the worst thing yet. I am not fine. In all my nineteen years of living, I have never felt so trapped and petrified like I do right now.

I was a terrible insomniac, and every time I closed my eyes, I could only see her lifeless body on that hospital bed. I did take drugs; I even went to stupid therapy, but it was all useless. The sleeping pills did nothing. The warm milk? A stupid idea. The therapy? All for nothing. I mean, what’s the use of therapy when all they focus on is the fact that you might have PTSD? Of course, you pay, and you get nothing but textbook words. Self-harming helps. I can’t sleep, and then when I do it, I get at least a few hours of rest. That’s been my go-to. That has been my life for years. That has been my demon.

I'd been sleepwalking again. Which part of the house did this to me? I tried to remember, but my brain was disconnected from my body. I stepped into the shower and let the hot stream massage my body, ignoring the burning sensation on my back. Surely it can't be that bad. But it is. Sleepwalking and self harm are deadly twins. Julian must never see this. Why am I thinking about him again? I put on my gym shorts and a singlet and shoved in my earpods, letting the bass mute the chaos inside me.

So well, Malisa and Aiden's story hasn't ended yet as there would be a part two. I'll inform you guys about it when it's out... In the meantime, you guys can check out my other books. The Better Place : A very emotional story about decisions and how they affect our future. It's dedicated to my deceased friend, Jemmy.... ( Book is completed with 180 chapters . Available on, Goodnovel and Web Novel. ) Depressed ( love yourself ) : A unique book on learning to love oneself and building a strong self esteem... Also a book on Self discovery. ( Book is completed and is Available on N******t. )

My inner demons won't leave So all I can do is grieve I start to fade... There is no word There is no goodbye No one cares And no one cries. Wow! She is really talented. I keep reading through it, but the very last page. It looks new. As if she wrote in it recently. FADING INTO BROKENNESS: I don't fight the knife that pierces my veins I welcome this darkness inside to help me forget my pain, my brokenness, my shame Dark red trickles down my arm A little secret of mine, known as self-harm

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration as beads of sweat rolled down my body. "Aaaaaaaaaaaa!" I screamed as my body shook with emotions, and I burst out crying uncontrollably. I ran to the punching bag again, kept punching in anger, removed my gloves, and continued. "That's enough; you'd end up killing yourself!" I heard a familiar voice, and I snapped my head in that direction. "At least I would be relieved of this pain," I said and lit up a cigarette. "Self-harm is not advisable. You're bleeding on your knuckles."

Her words are barely audible. I take her hand in mine. “Why?” “Because I hate myself, that is why. I would rather hurt myself than lash out at other people.” “Why do you hate yourself? There is nothing wrong with you. You are beautiful just the way you are.” “Have you ever just felt like you have lost control of everything in your life, and you can’t do anything about it?” she asks. “Yes, many times. Why do you think I do the things I do?”

But now I had no options. Trapped in my own illusions, voices clouded my head as they all yelled at me. “Burn Zena, Burn!!” This was the voice of a nobody I created in my own head. A voice I stopped listening to over the years, but now it came hunting me, after hearing the hurtful words from his mum. I stood up looking for anything to get rid of this icy feeling, but I found nothing. I needed to self-harm in order to get rid of those voices. This wasn't my choice, but it was the devil in me.

I felt numb and detached from my surroundings, lost in a sea of self-pity and despair. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to recall the events that led me to this point. I remembered feeling overwhelmed by the stress of my life, the weight of responsibilities and expectations crushing me . I felt alone, abandoned by those I loved and unable to find solace in the world around me. My mind was consumed by thoughts of self-harm, and I had reached for anything within reach to try and hurt myself. The sharp edges of a broken glass, the metal of a razor blade, anything to feel the physical pain that would somehow ease the emotional agony that I had been experiencing.

"It's, really, Tasha. You don't know the pressure it is to know that anything I say tonight will be in some dialogue in a book of yours. I'm trying to say that I could search for any phrase I'm saying tonight and I would find it on g****e, like the speech of a character. That's too much, Tasha. I'm not kidding. I really think too much what writers can do for other people. I've heard many stories of people in depression who were cured by finding help in the books, even those that most people consider a bullshit that should not have been written. You're awesome!” I agreed with him. In one of the worst phases of my life, it was an inconsequential love for Fifty Shades of Grey that took me out o