Story Of Self Harm Novels & Stories

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains depictions of ongoing captivity, domestic abuse, trauma, and mentions of past suicidal ideation/self-harm. Reader discretion is advised. It's easy to just give up and die. It's easy to just leave the pain here, to just vanish to feel free. It is such an easy thing to do for people who are completely exhausted by life, like me. I only wish I had just died from blood loss or an infection from the nail I saw. With that, I'll escape all the sufferings.

Today was my parents death anniversary, I should be at their graves with flowers but instead I chose this. Drinking, and trying to get Rowan to fuck me. But that thought didn't stop me from touching myself while I sniffed on his shirt. My fingers worked on my pussy like a fucking slut I was as I imagined him. I didn't stop when my phone rang, or when I picked it up. I fucked my slutty pussy harder when my therapist began talking about the various forms of self harm. From the way she sounded, it was obvious Rowan had called her to complain about my attitude getting worse.

But then I felt the coldness of Spade's gold piece on my neck and that snapped out of my daze as I rushed out of the kitchen, hastily picking up my jacket, I wore it and rushed out of my apartment If I stay in there one more minute, I'd lose my mind and do something to hurt myself. And I'd never done that before, self harm, it has never been something that I'd considered, maybe because I promised my mom I'd never even think about it. I rushed out of the building, breathing hard and fast as I started walking towards the right side of the building, I didn't even know where I was headed to but I just know I needed to be away from here, as fast as I could.

- On the other end, Susan was screaming as Mark, pretending to cut a fruit, 'accidentally' cut his wrist. "Mark!!!" She paled in terror and rushed him to the hospital. After bandaging Mark and examining him, the doctor frowned as he said, "The patient is suffering from chronic illness and exhibits self-harm tendencies. Did something happen recently?" Mark shook his head meekly. "Don't blame Zach… it's my own fault for being so weak and prone to self-harm. Zach is just worried about his son—I deserve to be cursed." As he made himself look miserably, Susan held him, feeling for him right then.

Before proceeding, I counted to ten. “I've hurt myself before when the pain was unbearable for me. This is the fifth time I've done it...Or so I believe,” I said, trying to recall how many times I had done it. “You mentioned that your parents were murdered; is that the reason for your self-harm?” Logan inquired, his face flushed with confusion. “Seems like I have to start from the beginning,” I said, letting out a shaky, humorless laugh. I clenched my bottom lip as I braced myself for another journey through those dark memories. Let's get this out of the way.

I never imagined Blaze to face such a traumatic childhood because most people who suffer from situations like these either wound up as a serial killer or off themselves by committing suicide. How do I know? Because I opted for finishing myself off after the nightmares of that dreadful night started haunting me. There were even days when the mental facility where I used to be would bound me in straight jackets to prevent me from self-harming. I shake the ugly thoughts away from my brain. “I don’t want to see that look because you’re sore and I don’t want you to bleed,” He says the last word with utmost sincerity shining in the hypnotic pools of his Egyptian blue eyes.

Penelope. She arched her brow when I remained silent, and I quickly remembered her question. Have I ever committed self harm? I had tried many things before, including suicide and I feared that much would make her loss for words, but I had to relent and reveal things that I'd normally never tell to a stranger. "Yes, but all my attempts were suicidal. I have tried drowning myself, slitting my wrist, jumping off a building and even drank poison once. All my attempts were futile due to..." I trailed off, looking down as my face burned from embarrassment.

"What else did Sophie talk to you about? Anything about why she did what she did?" She hesitates once more. “You probably won’t like what I’m about to say to you.” “Say it anyway.” “Okay.” She squares her shoulders. “He didn’t say it out loud, but I could pick up some clues from our conversation. There are a few main reasons that a child would hurt herself like that. The first is because she wants to commit suicide. I don’t think that’s the case here; Sophie was very engaged with me. Secondly, some people hurt themselves because they’re having a hard time processing their emotions, or they feel empty or disconnected, and the pain helps ground them. Pain is something predictable that they can

She was still holding herself in a ball, still crying, still not looking at me. There was no logic available in this place right now. There was no use standing here and asking Iris to make any sense. I met the doctor outside again. She was waiting patiently on her bench. “People who engage in self-injury,” the woman was eager to tell me, “are at high risk of harming themselves again. With her pain issues, though, I’m a bit hesitant to offer her any kind of medication that might—” The doctor probably would have gone on for a while if I’d let her.

Vincent asks me curiously. "I didn't really, Marcus was much worse off so I focused on helping him and neglected my own feelings. When Marcus tried to kill himself I was overcome by guilt so I nearly hanged myself. Then eventually I went to see Orion properly and he helped me deal with my guilt. I get urges to self harm still, but he gave me alternatives that won't leave marks," I say while I look at the gravestone. "What alternatives?" He asks as he rests his head against my shoulder.