Quote:
Originally Posted by StillIntending
For me, cutting feels the way a scream sounds. Except it's silent. Which, when you live in a household that doesn't know you're suicidal, is pretty important. On my worst nights, I cut in order to let out emotion the same way a scream would.
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Holy Mary, Mother of God.
I understand. I understand. My Jesus, I understand.
I'm in my third week, I think, of screaming daily. When I feel seconds away from ceasing to exist, I scream. It isn't relief that I feel, but release. That I've been released from madness for an hour or two.
Your name frightens me. Will you talk to me? Using the Private Message function. It would be creepy if I, at 57, sent a PM to a teenager, so if you"real willing to talk I'll let you message me.
I'm sure that you know why your name is disturbing. I'm so ignorant of what it's like to be young today and yet I feel guilt and empathy. Guilt because my younger days were happy. Empathy because I'm beginning to see how similar the emotions are, and how well expressed.
Sincerely. I really understand now. How simple and horrifying.