A letter to self-harm

Dear diary courtesy of incurable_hippie on FlickrDear Self-harm,

I want you to know that it is over between us. I know I have said this before, but it has taken me every ounce of courage to say it now. You left when I was fifteen and I thought we were through, but then you came crawling back around my sixteenth birthday to show me we were not.

You made my family and friends concerned, and forced me to distance myself from them in order to keep you satisfied. They kept telling me how bad you were for me, but you kept tempting me to come back for more. And I did.

You visited me often, even at unspeakable hours, ready to scream and yell about how much I deserved you and how you were the only one to truly care about me. And that, no matter how much I hated you, I couldn’t let you go because I was addicted to the pain you gave me.

You often lied to me, telling me that by listening to you I had control of emotions that I felt I couldn’t handle. You kept telling me that the relief you gave me was worth more than the pain before and afterwards. But all you did by lying to me was you led me into a whirlpool of unmanageable guilt, frustration, and self-loathing.

Just in case you’re wondering why I’m writing this letter, let me remind you of our fight. Remember how I hadn’t seen you for a couple of weeks? And then a few days ago, you visited me while I was in bed? You wouldn’t stop yelling at me, no matter how much I yelled back. You only stopped when I did as you told me. Except then you left me all alone. Left me with the tears, the guilt, and the pain of what you had just made me do. You left me all alone, not giving me the usual contentment and short-lived pleasure I felt when I listened to you.

It’s going to be hard not being with you anymore, we’ve been together for five years now. The attachment we had with each other was huge, but it’s time to move on. I don’t want to be your slave anymore. I don’t want to have to look at you when I change my clothes, when I have a shower, in the summer when I go swimming, or when I’m playing sport. Because you disgust me and it disgusts myself that I’ve put up with you for so long.

I know you won’t miss me because you’ve got plenty of other friends to be with. I just wish you weren’t so popular. I hope one day, they too, have the strength to get rid of you and you’ll be all alone, just like you’ve made me feel for the past five years.

You’re very enticing, but don’t even think about coming back again because this is it. This is the end.

Goodbye.

Read about what self-harm is and the choices you have.