Stop allowing people to talk you into situations you know you don’t want to be in. Life is too short to spend it trying to please everyone all the time. Or trying to tiptoe around everyone in order to not hurt their feelings. You can NOT please everyone all the time. You’ll run yourself rugged…

via You can say NO — Ascerblog

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You can say NO — Ascerblog

There are a lot of things that I am afraid of, showing my body off is one of those things. However, lately I have been doing just that!!! I’m not entirely sure how this happened though. I have spent the past three and a half years covering up my body and shielding it from the world. Whether it be during the cold seasons when it was necessary and I didn’t get confusing looks, to all the way through the hot seasons where people thought I had gone mentally insane. There was never anything I had to hide anyway, a few scars on my wrist and a few on my upper thigh, which people were bound to see either way, in other words I wasn’t ashamed of them; why should I be? they re apart of my life. It was the things I had no control of that I worked so hard to keep hidden, things like my stomach, my boobs, my arms that just aren’t skinny enough. These things that prompted me to hate myself, the same things that made me suffer throughout my life. I am a senior in high school and I have two weeks of school left before I am finally done and out of this hell. Right know I am wearing a sleeveless crop top, something that if two years ago you had paid me to wear in public for a day I would not have done it. I guess I felt like I had nothing to lose, this is my last chance to make an impression on my peers and show them how far I have come. It’s petrifying yet incredibly liberating at the same time. There is only me and I love me. 

Conquered

Canna 

      I am bitterly cold; So frigidly ice cold. The only warmth I regain is that of the crimson stream which flows from my snow white skin. The red is a beautiful contrast to my monochromatic life. I would say the pain is viscous but that would make me a fabricator. In total infallibility I feel vacant, my body is always rushed with endorphins. The melancholy  feeling creeps up upon me as I keep on moving. Nothing changes nor will it ever change. I am content with my solemn being. 

Cold

Uncompromising Means Defeating Fear

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IMG_3028.JPGUncompromising“>via Daily Prompt: Uncompromising

To make a compromise is to bend your own rules for the benefit of another. I have always done this to ensure the happiness of others as well as to have an excuse as to why I can’t stand up to my own internal demons… When it came to my mental health I was always afraid to touch it, this meant that I resented any help. It ruled me (a story I wrote about how my mental illness controlled my life ).  

I guess you could say that something in me knew that if I tried to fight it I would lose. I had that idea in my mind for a few years, even going through therapy I knew it was a lost cause. I compromised my life for this winter storm that was ragging under my skin. I compromised my psychical health, mental health, social health and ultimately my entire life for this seed of pity I had inside of me. 

It took me an incredible amount of time to come to the realization that my personal happiness is something I could never negotiate for anyone or anything, including myself. I deserve   to have confidence and inner peace. It’s almost hypocritical of me to be saying any of this because for so many years of my life I had so many people telling me the exact same thing but I pushed them away and ignored their words. 

I am uncompromising when it comes to my mental health. I put my foot down and do not plan on picking it back up. I think as people we see everything as negotiable but we neglect the fact that some things are the way they are for a reason and other things are meant to be manipulated, that’s the beauty of life; You have to figure out which things are the way they are for a reason and which things are not. Luckily, I figured out that my mental health was meant to be manipulated.  
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Control and Self Harm

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I was never able to answer the question, “Why do you want to inflict pain on yourself?”. It was just as a mystery to me as it was to the inquisitive folk; Truthfully there was no real answer, it was always just because it makes me feel good. As sadistic as it sounds it did feel good, of course it hurt but there was always something about the sense of power it gave me. You see, I was lacking control in my life… I had little to no control over my emotions, seemingly no control over my life, nor any control of what would happen next; However, there was one thing I was sure I had control over and that was hurting myself. I could administer as much pain as I wanted, whenever I wanted and wherever I wanted, this gave me the dominance that I had been yearning for. And from that dominance I grew, if I had not discovered the reasoning behind my self harm I don’t think I would be able to state how strong I am today. It takes a lot out of you and that’s what people neglect to see. I learned that at a very young age that sometimes in order to get better you have to experiment with different things, you have to put yourself through hardships if you want a real glimpse into reality. This goes without saying (or at least it should), I am not promoting self harm in the slightest, in fact, there are many other ways to find your power, safer ways to say the least. Anyways, I’m sitting at my desk writing this today because it dawned on me how ignorant so many people are to this, we shouldn’t push it under the rug. I also wanted to offer alternatives to self harm — To those who are thinking about hurting yourself or anyone who has hurt themselves in the past, hear me out. You have everything to live for. Do not cut yourself, do not burn yourself, do not hit yourself, do not drink yourself to death, just do not hurt yourself. Trust me when I say this, there are so many other things you could do, why do you think I’m sitting here writing? And to the people that are new to this, do not look at self harm as a plea for social attention, rather you should be looking at it as  a plea for help or control. I know not everyone has the same views as me and that’s fine but take this into consideration, if you feel you have no one just remember that some random person on the internet (me) gets it.

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I Was Born With A Seed In My Hand

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I have a tree; It’s a special tree. It was born with me and it will always be with me. I take care of my tree, I water it, I give it proper nutrients and I maintain it so that its leaves don’t get too out of hand. If I stop caring for my tree it will become an issue; Like I said before, my tree is a special tree; Sometimes I don’t have to worry about feeding it because occasionally it will feed itself. The only problem is that it doesn’t eat the right things, it feeds on desperation, it doesn’t maintain its leaves and it buries its roots into my chest. The roots are embedded in my rib cage, protecting my heart but every once in a while, cutting off my circulation. My tree didn’t start to grow until I was 13, it grew fairly quickly, almost as fast as Usain Bolt. My tree’s name is Sally, she always made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, Sally was my own personal bully.

When I turned 15 Sally started taking control of my life… she buried her roots further down into my chest and all through my back. My lungs had become captivated by her roots, if I tried to move she’d pull me back, if I tried to breathe she’d bury her roots deeper, there was no escaping my tree. Half way into 9th grade Sally convinced me to hurt myself, she said it would be good for her and even better for me. She told me that it’s the right thing to do and that if I didn’t then I was selfish. Every now and then Sally would bind my arms to my sides and my feet together, she’d hold my mouth closed with her branches so I couldn’t cry for help. My tree left marks on my body like you wouldn’t believe. After a while I decided that my tree was much too large a burden, I decided to put it to an end. My friends didn’t understand why my once porcelain skin was now beet red and scratched up.

My parents took me to an arborist to evaluate Sally’s condition; The arborist told me that my dear trees roots had grown too far into me and that it would require treatment to fix. The arborist examined my body, he checked my wrists, my thighs, my arms and even my stomach. He told me that these were the most common places that trees like Sally left their marks and he was right, Sally had left gashes all over me. The arborist gave me special supplements to take that would help relax Sally, I started taking them and right away my tree had harvested her roots from my back and she had settled down. I didn’t see much from my tree after that for about a year and a half. When I turned 17 Sally showed back up, I didn’t mind it, truthfully I had missed her a bit. She saw that I was weak and took advantage of me. Her branches grew thicker and her roots dug deeper, yet again my tree had imprisoned me but this time with much more force. My supplements stopped working on sally’ for she had become too strong for them.

I told no one about Sally’s return, in fact, she and I decided to keep quiet about it. Sally was so different this time around, she was much more aggressive and a lot more oppressive. One day, Sally told me that I needed to take a lot of pills, she informed me that they wouldn’t be able to catch her because she wouldn’t leave behind any physical evidence. I took the pills and was rushed to the hospital, Sally right there with me. I lay in the room while they ask if I meant to hurt myself, I replied no, for it was not me who wanted to hurt myself but rather it was Sally who wanted to hurt me; I kept that to myself. My tree is a special tree, she knows everything about me, she knows all of my insecurities and all of my triggers. Sally never quite went away after that, instead she stayed and lived under my skin waiting for the right time to strike. Last summer I was diagnosed with body dysmorphia, Sally had won. Not only was I aware of my tree but now I was aware of myself too. She told me I was ugly, she said I wasn’t skinny enough, thus making me worthless.  Sally confined me to my bed for an entire week, she only let me up to use the bathroom. My tree bound my mouth closed so I couldn’t eat, she didn’t let me talk to anyone and she pushed everyone away. My tree is tamed now but she still bites.