#// self harm

[support]

Everything okay?

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone. There are many support services that are here to help. For 24/7 peer support and other resources, message KokoBot on Tumblr.

If you are in the United States, please try:

National Suicide and Crisis Lifeline or dial 988 or (en Español)

The Trevor Project (LGBT crisis intervention) or dial 1-866-488-7386

Trans Lifeline or dial 1-877-565-8860 (en Español)

The National Domestic Violence Hotline or 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

Rape Abuse & Incest National Network or 1-800-656-HOPE (4673)

S.A.F.E. Alternatives for Stopping Self Abuse or 1–800-DONT-CUT (366–8288)

National Eating Disorders Association

If you are outside the United States, visit IASP to find resources for your country.

For more resources, please visit our Counseling & Prevention Resources page for a list of services that may be able to help.

[silverskye13]

Silver's Care Guide for the Impulsively Inclined:

Hi, did you just receive bad news? Are you one of the many many people who, upon receiving bad news, react with self destructive spirals, or lash out in a need for control? Are you just really fucking sad, or angry, and would like an alternative to hurting yourself and others? Are you just feeling a little manic or impulsive?

Welcome to my handy guide for alternative (self) destruction! These are alternatives to physical and immediate harm to your person. That does not necessarily mean they are safe, just safer, and they are all things I've done before to mixed results. With that in mind.

Remember the golden rule: if what you're doing cannot be fixed, repaired, or healed within an hour, don't fucking do it. You have one body, and one life, and regardless of what your thoughts say in the moment, that body and life is necessary for your future happiness. Prioritize yourself; harm objects instead.

Alternatives to harming yourself or others:

Kick something loud. A tin can. A plastic bag. Take it to an outdoor space and see how far you can kick it, and how loud a sound you can make. If you have multiple objects to kick, listen to the differences in sound. How one thing sounds hollow and another rattles.

Kick something soft. A pillow. A hackey-sack. Take it to an outdoor space, or kick it against a sturdy wall (I recommend brick or stone). Listen to the sound of the batting, or the beans. See what shapes you can get it to land in, and how deep a divot your foot can leave.

Tear paper. Get a cheap notebook, some old bills you don't need, note cards or old magazines. See how big of pieces you can make. Put several sheets in your hand and see how thick the paper can get before you can't tear it anymore. See how thin of strips you can tear. Experiment with folding it into shapes and trying to tear along the lines.

Do a very small controlled burn. Newspaper, a cheap notebook from the dollar store, a handful of old homework assignments you don't need, a candle, etc. The best objects are ones made to burn such as matches or candles. In lieu of that, focus specifically on paper, as it will have fewer chemicals/fumes that can damage your lungs if you inhale smoke. Take it to a well ventilated place, the floor of a concrete garage, your driveway, an empty lot or sidewalk. If you have a burn barrel or fire pit, use it. If you have no access to any of these things, make the burn very small [less than half a page at a time] and confine it to your sink. If your building has automatic sprinkler systems, don't do this. Light one edge of your paper on fire and watch it curl. See if you can burn small, individual poke-holes in the page. If you are lighting a candle, watch the wax melt. See if you can light one match using another. When a match is used, try and burn what's left of the stick. If you want some extra catharsis, write a person you hate, a source of your angst, or just general thoughts on the paper you're burning.

Throw rocks. Go outside and touch grass -- and look for rocks while you're there. All sizes are fair game, but the bigger they are, the harder they are to throw. I recommend something the size of a marble. Gather a number of rocks and throw them one at a time, trying to hit targets like trees or fence posts. If you can find a convenient body of water, throw them in there and listen to the splash.

Skip rocks. Skipping rocks across the top of the water can also be a fun challenge to use your aggression on. For skipping rocks specifically, you want a stone that is smooth and flat. Hold it between your forefinger and your thumb, and throw sideways in an arcing motion. You are trying to get the rock to spin. The combination of the spin, and the force, and the flat side hitting the water, causes the skip. I average 3 skips per stone. Beat my average. My Papa, who taught me, used to routinely get 5-7 skips. Beat him after you beat me.

Play a violent or fast paced video game. Most people have games on their mobile or console devices these days. Pick something quick, with low investment and high reward. Shoot-em-ups and arcade games. Something with a number that ticks up, and stock zombies you can kill. Try to beat your high score, or aim for an exact number. My lucky number is 13, so I will often try to score a number that's a multiple of 13.

Break glass. This one requires some investment to do legally and safely. Note: I am not telling you to throw rocks at people's windows or vandalize property. This is an alternative to those things. Find or obtain (I buy mine at Michael's for $10) some glass panes. They can be multicolored if you're feeling fun. Cover a pane in an old sheet or the plastic bag you bought it in. With a thick soled shoe or a rubber mallet, smash it. Try to make fun shapes with the pieces. Listen to the crunch. Keep a broom and dustpan ready, and make sure you have dedicated time to clean the mess. There is nothing worse than walking barefoot through a room and cutting open your foot.

Smash pumpkins, guards, watermelon, etc. Exactly what it says on the tin. Grab your murder-able vegetable of choice and a weapon (stick, hammer, sword, axe, etc) and go wild. Make as big a mess as you can. I mean absolutely destroy that fruit. If you aren't covered in the blood of your prey, have you really won? Take a long shower afterwards, and wear clothes you don't mind staining. Too depressed to clean up the mess? It's fruit. The local wildlife will thank you. Though if it's summer, you may get ants/bees.

Switch a tree. Find a switch. If your parents never made you pick your own switch, congratulations. If they did, you know exactly what you're looking for. Grab a stick, something green and flexible and long -- whip like. Go to the tree you wish to switch, and smack the shit out of it. You can also do this to bushes. Try to make the whip-crack noise, listen to the whistle of the branch through the air. See if you can take the individual leaves off a branch. Smack the shit out the tree with your switch until the switch breaks. If you're still feeling angry and impulsive, rinse and repeat.

Alternatives to moping sadly / wallowing in self pity:

Write a list of things you enjoy. This is just to remind you that you do have joy in life, actually. Focus on finding the smallest things possible, the ones that are truly niche to you and you alone. An example for me would be the strange purple-red color your veins take on when bright light is shining through them. I could stare at that color for ages. I'm talking really strange, personal joys. The way a sharpie brand pen clicks. How saying a word too much turns it into not-a-word. Make a list of those things.

Find a favorite texture and run your hands over it. Over and over. Obsessively. If this texture happens to be a pet, all the better! If not, that is also fine. My favorite texture is running my fingers through my hair when I've put hair gel in it. The feeling of detangling it with my fingers, all the sharp brittle hairs loosening into softness again, is the most cathartic in the world. Close second is my fingernails on very cheap construction paper, the pulpy stuff they give to kindergartners. Pass your hands through the texture until it loses its allure. Listen to the sounds it makes when you run your hands across/through it. Smell it, and smell your hands after you've touched it. Rub it on other parts of your body, like your arms or your neck. Try to pick it up with your feet.

Eat your favorite food. I don't give two shits about calories. This is comfort. If you don't have access to your favorite food, or it is too hard to cook with the energy levels you have, get the closest approximation you can find, or get your second favorite. Eat it slowly. Try to pick the tastes apart on your tongue. Make obnoxious noises while you eat, or eat it in a way you normally wouldn't. Eat ice cream with chopsticks. Eat soup with a butter knife. Lick pudding off the tines of a fork. Use your hands I don't care. Slurp out of the bowl like a dog. Pretend you're a caveman. Get stupid and silly. It's food. It's food. It's food. Enjoy every moment of it!

Tell a friend how awesome they are. Pop into their inbox and ask them about their day. Call them and ask for five minutes of their time. Invite them to dinner. You don't have to get super heartfelt if you're scared of being weird. Just say "Hey, have I told you you're awesome recently? Because you are." Be prepared to list at least one reason why.

Go cry about it. Seriously. In the words of my boss, "Sounds like you need to drink a bottle of wine, put on the saddest episode of your favorite TV show, and have a good sob fest." Crying is a releasing of built up chemicals in your brain, which is why people sometimes cry when they're happy or pissed -- you've got too many emotions inside and you need to literally put them outside. So if you're feeling the Miseries and need a quick release, give yourself a reason to cry and go for it. And I'm not talking like, tasteful wife mourning her husband lost to war with a single stoic tear down her face. Get ugly. Sob your eyes out. Scream, and wail, and thrash. Pretend you're an Irish widow who's just lost her child to famine and dirge. Lament. Do that thing in the Bible where people are so upset they tear at their clothes. When you're done, breathe, and breathe, and breathe again. That feels... Better. Doesn't it?

Listen to calming music, or sing/hum a song. This one might just be a me thing, but it is hard to be truly miserable when there's a soundtrack playing in your thoughts. This works best if the music you're listening to has no words, and is calming. We are not looking for sad mixes on YouTube. We are looking for lofi, and orchestra, and rainy mood. Something to dampen thought, not enhance it. I like putting on rain sounds and humming as I walk through my house. It lets me take action while still providing background noise I can rely on.

And that's about it, I think. I hope! My scattering of thoughts can help you! Or at least get you thinking about what works best for you. Feel free to add your own thoughts in the comments and I will try to reblog them!

Remember: we are prioritizing the safety of self here. This is to curb impulses for self harm, and self destruction, and the harming of others. Above all else, stay safe.

You've got this. I believe in you.

[dominacetrix]

Absolutely and we don't talk about it enough. Not eating enough is self harm. Isolating yourself because you feel unworthy of other people's time is self harm. Looking at content that you know will do nothing but upset you is self harm.

Content warning: discussion of self harm

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Obviously there's cases where it might not be, but the question is can it.

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We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Love Heals | Jaemin Imagine #18

Title: love heals

Genre: college au, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mentions and graphic descriptions of self-harm, depression, blood, breakdowns. please do not read if any of these topics make you uncomfortable.

Word Count: ~1.4k

Author's Note: I guess I went from writing some sweet fluffy stories to sad and dark stuff again. I apologize, I know my lighter stuff might be what you guys like more. But whenever I write about this sensitive topic in particular, it means that my mind is spiraling again and I'm stuck in the dark place I've tried so hard to escape. And in this dark place, I write what I feel in hopes that I can comfort others who might be experiencing something similar. Please know that you are not alone, and there are so people that want to help and support you. If you feel like there isn't anyone in your life who can do that right now, know that God loves you and wants to help you get through this. Thank you for reading and I'm sorry ^ ^

𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪

The heavy silence falls on your dorm room again, as you relive every dark thought that has ever entered your head. Once again, your mind attacked and you lost the battle. All the progress you’ve made to fight the negative self-talk is meaningless. Positivity, optimism, hope— are all strangers, fleeting and unreachable. Depression is the friend that you’ve become too attached to.

Sitting in your bed, you glance down at your arm, now littered with straight lines of red— the faint sting of them just starting to settle. They vary in length, most of them small but numerous. The cuts started just below your elbow, and stopped at your wrist. Somehow it has become your goal to ensure that no space of skin goes untouched by the razor blade that’s resting proudly on your desk. Each line seems like a scarlet promise— a release, a brief surge of something other than emptiness. And your mind echoes with the familiar justification: I’ll stop eventually…just not now.

The quiet creak of the door, left unlocked by your roommate, pulls you from your thoughts, and you know without looking who’s come in. Jaemin. He’s always had a way of moving softly, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the air. You’re grateful for it, but you wished he hadn’t come tonight. You just wish he’d go home and not see you like this. Yet, your boyfriend must have a sixth sense of something. Despite all the effort you put into hiding it, he seems to sense your sadness from even miles away.

“(Y/n)?” His voice is tender, but you hear the worry beneath it. 

Jaemin’s eyes sweep over her as he crosses the room, his gaze landing on your arm. Out of instinct, you pull down your sweater sleeve out of instinct. But you both know it’s too late— the damage is done and he’s seen it. Although you want to appear unbothered about it to him, your heart still clenches as his shoes come off and he approaches you cautiously.

He exhales as he reaches for your hand gently. “Princess…”

You want to pull away, to avoid his touch— another instinct. But his hands are so warm, so careful. You feel like you don’t deserve it, yet it keeps you from pushing him away. Jaemin turns your arm over, exposing the fresh wounds. His expression softens even more, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he crouches down under your bed, to open the bottom drawer where you kept the first-aid kit he bought for you after the first time this happened.

Silence lingers as he moves to sit beside you on the bed, the dark blue comforter from your childhood beneath you both. Without a word, he takes gauze from the kit, pressing it softly against the cuts to stop any bleeding before reaching for the antiseptic wipes. Jaemin cleans your cuts with the same care he always does— gentle, tender, yet heartbreakingly serious.

Although his focus shifts to bandaging your wounds, you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. You never can, knowing this has happened too many times by now. Shame bubbles in your chest and you bite down on your lower lip, trying to think of what to say. You search your mind for an excuse you didn’t use the last time. Coping with stress? Releasing anger? Punishing yourself? Wanting to feel something instead of nothing? Maybe all of the above, you suppose.

When the last area of marked skin is covered with an “extra large” Band-Aid, you finally dare to glance up at him. By now, you’ve learned that Jaemin doesn’t react with anger in general. Especially in these moments, he never raises his voice or purposely uses words to make you feel worse. Instead, he simply lets you know that he’s here when you’re ready to talk, before asking if you’ve eaten yet. These incidents always end with a shared meal and cuddles in your bed or his.

But the way he looks at you now, with such concern and despair, chips at the wall you try so hard to keep up. Once the first-aid is closed, he holds your hand and brushes his thumb lightly over your knuckles. That’s when you notice his fingers are trembling.

“Jaem... are you okay?” you ask, though your throat was dry from staying quiet for so long.

Then you see water gloss over his eyes and this hits you. Jaemin never cries. 

His head drops and his hand tightens around yours, almost like he’s afraid to let go. “(Y/n)... I... I don’t know what to do.”

The quiet confession makes you hold your breath. You watch as his shoulders begin to shake, and he uses his free hand to cover his face. The first tear slips down his cheek, and then another, until he’s full-on crying, letting soft, choked sobs escape him. This is all the heartbreak you needed to witness for you to lean forward to wrap your arms around his broad frame. 

It hurts more to see his usual steady composure shattered. “I-I’m so scared, Princess,” he blubbers.

“Every time I see this—” Voice breaking as his fingers ghost over your arm. “Every time I find you like this... I can’t help but fear that I’ll get here too late. That... that one day you’ll just be gone.”

You haven’t been able to cry since you first picked up the razor blade today. But seeing your boyfriend break in front of you is enough to make tears well up in your eyes as well. You have never seen Jaemin like this before— so raw, so completely undone. 

All you can do is hold him a little closer as if that could somehow mend the pain you’re causing. He sinks further into your embrace, his body trembling against yours. You try to soothe him by stroking his hair, as you often did as a gesture of affection. But the brokenness in his sobs only grew louder.

His forehead presses against your shoulder as he clings to you. “I just... I want to see you graduate. I want to marry you, and buy a house together. Have kids with you as we’ve always wanted. I want to come home to you and the family we’ve made together.”

Your heart feels like it’s splintering. The dreams you both share weigh down on you, each one sharper than the last. Tears fall freely for you now as his own ones slow. He pulls back slightly to look at you with his red-rimmed eyes, vulnerability etched across his face.

“(Y/n), please,” he pleads desperately, “I can’t lose you. I love you so much... Please don’t leave me.”

Jaemin consistently shows his love in every possible way, whether it be through words, hugs and kisses, gifts, all of it. However, this is the first time you truly understand the depth of his love— the way he wants you here, not just in fragments, but whole, alive. A surge of resolve fills within you. 

As your fingers reach up to brush away his tears, you whisper, “I’m so sorry, Jaemin. I didn’t realize how much this was hurting you too.”

His leans into your touch, compelling you to cup his face in your hands. You feel the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

“I’ll... I’ll get better. I promise, I’ll try for you. Because...,” you swallow, struggling to find the right words. “Because I love you too.”

Of course, you have returned those three words to him. But these ones in particular carry so much more to them. Although you may feel deeply trapped in Hell, your love for Jaemin is stronger than this punishment you’ve given yourself. He deserves to have someone he can give his love to and have every ounce of it reciprocated. And you want to be that person for him, you can be that person for him.

The calmness in him seems to appear, as his tears finally subside. He moves closer to let all of his emotions pour into the soft kiss he presses against your lips. “You’re not alone, Princess. I’ll be here with you, every step of the way,” he murmurs in assurance. 

A strange, fragile hope blossoms inside you as the two of you kiss again. For the first time, you want to believe there is something more than your own pain. If your love with Jaemin prevails, you have the will to heal. For him now, and for yourself eventually.

𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪

previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[elevenstork]

I know that this is bad. Really bad. But do not harm yourself, look at me, DO NOT. They want you dead, DON'T put the shovel in their hands. I know it can be pretty fucking hard to see but there are a lot of people out there who are willing to stand beside you, and fight for you; in the world, in the us, might even closer than you think. You're strong, stronger than you'd believe. For now just stay safe

[kyri45]

Will Wukong have a huge panic™ because he thinks MK will never see him the same ever again?

Someone asked for hand holding so I gotta give you the most fluffiest elements in the most angstier of contexts.

Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU (PREV / FIRST / NEXT )

Personal comments under the cut (mentions of past self harm)

Around 3 years ago I had some anxiety issues, one of the main things that I thought it wasn't self harm for so long was the fact that when something that involved other people went wrong because of a choice of mine (even just minor inconveniences) the pain of guilt was so strong that to turn it down I had to physically sting my skin with my nails. (I play guitar, so I always have a hand with longer nails to play arpeggio). Never it went to the point that it would bleed, but bc of that I thought It was no problem. Thanks to my therapist I know that just because it wasn't the "typical" self harm doesn't mean it wasn't a serious issue.

All of this to say that I might be projecting a little. And honestly I can't even imagine how terrible Wukong might feel everytime the guilt comes back to him...

[void-dude]

Bill at therapy Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

TW: EYE STRAIN | SH | DEATH\SUICIDE MENTIONS

(It’s a bit darker this time sorry guys)

Now I know you guys voted angry but let’s be honest, I’m a filthy half liar

(There is a script which I find…much sadder! So yeah!)

[simonn0el]

Pen and marker on construction paper.

Prints available here

[manty-monster]

[worthless-misery]

Dear diary...

The fact that I'm still "alive" in 2024 just feels like a huge mistake...

[arginnit]

that calculated recklessness of yours scares me yknow?

the "calculated recklessness" line here is in reference to ctommys way of self harm during the exile arc where he would purposefully take damage in situations where it was easily avoidable. specifically it is about how he excused those behaviors as him being reckless or unprepared.

he's purposefully looking forward here instead of at the fish he's cutting, and ends up hurting himself as a result.

[sermna]

They found her less than 5 miles from her house. Her hair was tangled with weeds and her fingernails were bent back with dirt; she'd been digging.

Digging even long after her body was drained of blood. Digging in frantic, sloppy movements. Digging to reach █████████ █████ ███████?

[inkly-heart]

[neuroticboyfriend]

If you struggle with substance abuse but not addiction, you still deserve support. If you struggle with suicidality/self harm urges but don't act on it, you still deserve support. If you struggle with psychosis and paranoia but have insight, you still deserve support. If you struggle with anything but are "coping with it," you still deserve support.

You dont need to be in imminent crisis to get help - safety planning, harm reduction, resources, and accommodations. You're still struggling. You're still suffering, You're still at risk/in danger. You deserve better - you need better. Your health and wellbeing matters.

[goddteeth]

i will never leave this house

[mooseymi]

"All you wanted was to make the hurt go away," is just the standards and practices friendly way of saying he was suicidal. "Some things are better left unsaid," is just the standards and practices friendly way of saying he committed (assissted?) suicide.