I’m honestly struggling. I feel like nothing I have been doing is giving me results and the future honestly scares me. That’s always been my biggest fear, the future. It’s so beyond my control that I want to just crawl under a rock and let it pass. But sadly, the world that I live in frowns upon that sort of behavior. So for now I just have to hold it together and keep putting up my mask to the world. As far as the world can see me, I’m doing great: I’m happy. I’m not anxious. I feel ‘normal’ (if there ever was such a thing). But inside… inside I’m cracking. Inside I feel like I’m about to fall apart at a moments notice. Inside the walls, inside the false mask that I project to the world, inside me, I know the truth.

Suicide, it’s a selfish thing. Suicide is selfish, it’s something that often happens when a person feels hopeless and helpless. I remember someone who told me that. It was actually after I just had been released from inpatient for a suicide attempt. Those two words always stuck with me: hopeless and helpless. What on Earth could possibly have been so bad that I felt so hopeless, and then why didn’t I see the people in my life who would have gladly given up everything to help lift me up. The answer? There isn’t one. My depression clouded my judgement so much that I wasn’t able to see the people around me who wanted to help. It’s a hard thing to understand. That’s why I am strongly against guilt tripping people who are suicidal. It doesn’t help at all, in fact it often hurts. Still it’s important to remember the people left behind. There’s two sides to the suicide coin. There is the person who attempts and the people who are left behind. I can personally tell you that the people left behind are forever changed. There was a girl in my community who committed suicide, her name doesn’t matter. Even though I didn’t know her, I knew many of her best friends. When I heard this wonderful girl killed herself, I literally cried for an hour. Looking at the people around her made me want to make a change in the world. That was a moment that inspired me.

Suicide is a hard thing to talk about, and I personally have a ton to say. As a survivor of not one, two, even three attempts, (somewhere in the neighborhood of 17), I always will tell everyone and anyone out there that there IS help to be had. You are not alone, you are not helpless, and I will not rest until this IS NOT the end of your story.

My name is Michael, and that’s a small piece of a large story that has made me who I am. I’m always here to talk for anyone in need. Anyone.

Michael

livelifebyliving.tumblr.com

Why I started self harm… It’s something that is so much easier to explain to someone who has experienced self harm. But, I’m gonna try to explain it as if the people reading this have no idea about how someone could take a blade to their skin and intentionally inflict pain on themselves. How do I even begin to explain one of the most complicated things someone can feel. Often times, when a person feels like they have no control over anything that happens in their life, they will turn to inflicting pain that they can control. In the moment, people feel like it helps. Even if someone hears about it and decides to just try it once, it’s addicting as hell. When someone cuts, their body releases endorphins (the same chemical that people feel from a runner’s high) and adrenaline. Both of these chemicals are extremely addictive. They make you feel good for just a short while, but then when you come down, you feel worse than you did before. It’s a vicious cycle. I personally started it as a way to regain control. My plan backfired when cutting controlled me. My thoughts were if I could go to school and get through the miserable day, I could come home to my hidden knives and cut. To the day I still have the scars.

If there’s one thing I want people to get from this, its that cutting is a real addiction. It is a battle that never ends. Just as an alcoholic will always be a recovering alcoholic, a self injurer will always be a recovering self injurer. It isn’t something that is used for attention. I’m of the firm belief that VERY few people use cutting as an attention getting method. If someone is at the point where they will take a blade to their skin, they are at a point where they need help.

Cutting controlled my life for almost two years. I have more scars on my left arm than I even can count. Am I ashamed of them? Absolutely not. These scars serve as a reminder to me of where I’ve been. They remind me of memories which, even though they are painful, they still make me grateful of what my life is today. I couldn’t have stopped cutting alone. That’s just the fact of it. If I wouldn’t have had outside help from my parents and friends, I would likely not be writing this today. This is not an unbeatable disease. If you are struggling with cutting, burning, or any other form of self harm, I urge you to get help by talking to a counselor or parent. You do not have to fight this battle alone. You ARE NOT ALONE, and this is NOT the end of your story.

-Michael

livelifebyliving.tumblr.com

Hope and motivation, what are they and how do they fit into your life? In my experience, they often go hand in hand. If you lack hope in your life, there doesn’t seem like much of a reason to continue moving forward. Also, if you don’t have any hope for the situation, what do you have to motivate you? So as you can see, the two go hand in hand. The golden question that I get asked all the time: What motivates me? The things in my life that I see that have the potential to be changed for the better motivate and inspire me. Seeing my actions help people and help situations gives me hope. Whether it is working at the soup kitchen every week or spending an hour or two answering questions and helping people through a hard time, the results of my work always amaze me. I honestly wake up in the morning now with the desire to go out and help someone that day. It just is an amazing feeling, and that is what gives me hope.

-Michael

livelifebyliving.tumblr.com

livelifebyliving:

I’ve done a general post on Self Injury, but I’ve never shared the personal details about my battle with anyone except my closest friends. Some of the things that I’m about to say are things that they haven’t even heard. So, here we go.

My name is Michael, and I was 12 years old when I started cutting. I can’t really explain why I did it, it was more of an escape from feeling the emotional pain that I felt. I felt like seeing the cuts on my arm, knowing that I was physically hurting myself, I knew that I couldn’t get any worse. It was almost something where I said ‘I might as well make myself the worst I can possibly be, that way I can’t get any worse’ (if that makes sense). The extreme release I felt from this was my only escape from day-to-day life. I started cutting to feel some sense of control over the pain that I felt every day. In the end, it just ended up controlling me.

I remember in 6th grade, I was talking to a close friend of mine (at the time). Let’s call her Jane (No, that’s not her real name, but it’s not important). She and I were close enough to share anything that was bugging us. One day, she mentioned that she was cutting. At the time, I didn’t understand it really. I asked her why she did it, and she told me that she didn’t even know anymore. Then as she went on, she urged me never to try it. She told me that I had to promise to never try cutting. I promised her. Little did I know, I was about to step off of a cliff and never be the same. 

Read More

I’ve done a general post on Self Injury, but I’ve never shared the personal details about my battle with anyone except my closest friends. Some of the things that I’m about to say are things that they haven’t even heard. So, here we go.

My name is Michael, and I was 12 years old when I started cutting. I can’t really explain why I did it, it was more of an escape from feeling the emotional pain that I felt. I felt like seeing the cuts on my arm, knowing that I was physically hurting myself, I knew that I couldn’t get any worse. It was almost something where I said ‘I might as well make myself the worst I can possibly be, that way I can’t get any worse’ (if that makes sense). The extreme release I felt from this was my only escape from day-to-day life. I started cutting to feel some sense of control over the pain that I felt every day. In the end, it just ended up controlling me.

I remember in 6th grade, I was talking to a close friend of mine (at the time). Let’s call her Jane (No, that’s not her real name, but it’s not important). She and I were close enough to share anything that was bugging us. One day, she mentioned that she was cutting. At the time, I didn’t understand it really. I asked her why she did it, and she told me that she didn’t even know anymore. Then as she went on, she urged me never to try it. She told me that I had to promise to never try cutting. I promised her. Little did I know, I was about to step off of a cliff and never be the same. 

Read More

Reposting this from months ago, it needs to be seen.

Whoever you are, whoever you may be,

I won’t sit here on the other side of this page and tell you that ‘this is bad’ or ‘you can’t do this’. What I say doesn’t matter. The choice is yours. If you want to injure yourself that badly, there is nothing in this world that I can do to stop you.  There simply aren’t the words.

Before you cut, know something. Once you start, you won’t want to stop. Most people will look down upon you. You will feel ashamed. You will be stuck. Even if it’s just once, you will be hooked. It doesn’t matter how resolved you are to jut go once. Once you make the decision to self injure once, you will do it again. The once will turn to twice, the twice to three times, and so on. You will continue this habit whenever you feel anxious, angry, afraid, sad, or even when you aren’t feeling anything at all. 

This will continue until your entire life has become cutting. When you constantly wear long sleeves, or long pants. When you’re always afraid of someone finding out your secret. There’s always help, but once you start, it becomes much harder to listen to anybody (who are just trying to help). You will see the help as attacks on you. You will get defensive. 

Think about what this would do to your family. Imagine if they found out. Well, you may want to start finding excuses. If you start, someone will find out, and believe me, they will question it. It doesn’t matter how much you try to hide it, they will find out, and even if you give them an excuse for what happened: they will figure it out. 

I don’t know you; I don’t know your situation, all I know it that the life I once lived was not one I enjoyed. If you’re going to do this, be ready. If this is the life you want to live, by all means: it is your life. As someone once said: “As long as you’re happy”.

-Michael

If you need to talk, leave me a message: livelifebyliving.tumblr.com

‘Letter to a Self Injurer’ by Michael Garrett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

So many people in the past 24 hours have messaged me words of inspiration and words of thanks. If I can save even one life or maybe just help one person, I will be happy, and I don’t expect a single word of thanks. The people who have messaged me have inspired me not only to continue helping people, but also to continue moving forward in my life’s endeavors. This isn’t me doing anything special, it’s me doing what people have inspired me to do. So right now, I want to thank the people who have shared. Thanks to the people who have reblogged and raised awareness for cutting and depression. Hell, thanks to the people who raise awareness for anything close to their hearts. And above all, thank you for taking the time to read this.

You are not alone, and this is not the end of your story;

Michael

(Yes this may be a bit random but it was on my mind)