Using (TW)

I want to use.

It doesn’t help for me to know where it’ll lead. I’ve worked that through. If I use now I’ll still want to. And if I continue to, it’ll just be more, and more. So now I’ll take a couple of codeine’s. Which isn’t anything. Logically too. Later it’ll be more. Then tomorrow it’ll be more. And not only once a day. Continue reading “Using (TW)”

Eighty Two: Waking up – okay

I woke up this morning. The sun was shining. A clear sky. The weather actually makes a difference to me. Ready to face the day. Spent the morning and most of the day, just, okay. And it’s fun to just be okay. I’m grateful for it.

What are you grateful for today?

So long,


Eighty: The Pause (TW – SH)

I guess this can count as a reason. I’m grateful for it either way πŸ™‚

I wanted to curl my hair before. I’m going out tonight and thought I’d do it, rather than keep it up (at the moment I’m wearing my hair up, it’s a little bit of a mess). I don’t have a curler in my room. Well, I do, a new one that hasn’t been opened and that I never use in order to preserve it’s newness. I know, I know, it’s pointless to have it if I don’t use it. I always use my sisters curler and was gonna do so now. Except that I pulled out the plug and was about to bring it to my room in order to curl my hair. I guess to curl my hair. More to self harm. I plugged it back into her socket and am just gonna go out with my hair a bit of a mess.

The pause.

There never used to be a pause. I would pick something up to use, and just, use it. I would decide to do something, and do it. When it came to using painkillers there was more a pause, as it’d have to dissolve first. But even then, it’s not like there was time for me to think about it. Occasionally there was, but usually I’d only realize that I wanted to do something when I was already doing it. By which time it was too late to actually stop. For it’d be done.

The pause.

I guess there is a pause now. I can’t say I’m aware of what I want to do. For if I were, I probably wouldn’t have been about to move a curler in order to burn. Unless it does go like that. See something and want to use it, without there being anything beforehand. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had that. However, nowadays there’s usually (still not always, but sometimes) a gap before I actually use something. A gap that is sometimes long enough to acknowledge what I want to do and choose not to do so. I can’t say I always see the gap as enough of a choice, for sometimes it’s way too hard not to just do it when I’m about to, but there is sometimes a pause. That never used to exist. That I’m grateful for.

The pause.

So long,


Too much

The world is so overwhelming and just registers on my radar as ‘too much’. Always. I know not everyone knows what those words mean. It means that something, everything, nothing, is too intense for me and I’m way overwhelmed. Like trying to shower, but instead of a shower, Continue reading “Too much”

Letter to myself: 12th March

Dear Eliza,

I wish I knew what to say to you. I don’t.

You want to give up. Cry Eliza, cry. It’s okay. You know, he’s given you a gift – AH. Hurting you enough that you can cry about it. You let something in, I think he’s the only thing (person in this case) that you’ve ever really let in. I guess maybe that’s why he’s the first thing you’ve cried about in years. Continue reading “Letter to myself: 12th March”


The tears
They finally begin to overflow
Trickle slowly down
Forming a path
Building up all day
I guess this is a safer way
Of reacting. Better
Than self harming
Or using painkillers
Or throwing up
Or stopping eating
It isn’t safe to cry
Yet it hurts
It hurts so damn much
In ways I can’t name
Or even express why
If I ever knew that is
I wish I could just let them
One day


Warning, may act as a trigger

December I fought the urge to harm. But January I caved in. But this time it was different. Before there was that sense of relief, sense of release, sense of escape. But now there was nothing. Just emptiness, apart from that question of why, why was I doing it? What was I hoping to achieve?
Where there was once self loathing, there was now none, where there was that desire of self abandonment, there was none. All that there was were just blood and the thought why? Why had I done it? what had I hoped to have achieve? How could it achieve anything if that self destructiveness is no longer calling out to me.
All that is left is silence , a big gaping hole where that hateful voice used to reside that once called out to me to destroy.