Self Hatred - Blog Posts

But the thing that makes me really messed up is the contradiction: when I'm not hating myself, I feel righteous and victimized. Like the world is so unfair

We were liars, E Lockhart

2 every former "weird kid" out there who still struggles with repressed self hatred as a coping mechanism, remember that it's totally okay to forgive that younger version of yourself. You didn't do anything to deserve the way you were treated, and no matter what you did then, you can always become a version of yourself that you like NOW ! : D or something liek that!!

Starting to realize the reason I find Soraya so relatable is, because I struggled with feeling like I was inherently evil due to my autism and ADHD. Her learning to accept her powers kind of parallels my struggles to accept my neurodiversity, although thankfully without a kingdom at stake. 

wintergirls, laurie halse anderson, god must be doing cocaine, charlotte lawrence, pretty isn't pretty, olivia rodrigo, god must hate me, catie turner, brand new city, mitski, idontwannabeyouanymore, billie eilish, anti-hero, taylor swift, the edible woman, margaret atwood, pretty isn't pretty, olivia rodrigo, idontwannabeyouanymore, billie eilish, anna karenina, leo tolstoy.

-kalika

A Little Too Late. Right? (1/?)

Right??

Yes, I had to re-upload this due to internet and spelling errors. I hope you guys enjoy it, but a warning; it’s sad. I also gave it a new title.

If you have recently experienced self-destructive thoughts, or have hurt yourself, please reachout to someone. we all love you, I love you, your friends and family love you, so please don’t hurt or think badly about yourself! If you think you have no one to talk too, then please come to me. I’ll drop whatever I’m doing to help you/get you the help you need. You’re not a burden, and never will be. No matter your age, gender, sexuality, race, etc, you are loved, even if you don’t believe it. so please; reach out to someone, or reach out to me, and I promise, you’ll feel better.

Warnings: Self-Harm Mention, Self-Destructive Behavior, Heavy Angst, Pissed Off Jetstorm, Depressed Jetfire, Forest Fires, and Burnt Bodies (Kinda)

Note: Emergency requests are now open. If you need something written for mental health, those will be the first ones to get done before any other requests.

Molten ash.

      It was all that Jetfire could see through the hazed smoke, faint crackling filling his audio receptors. Where was he? Who was he? What happened? Questions threw themselves inside his pounding processors as he winced sharply. He made no move to get up, not knowing the damage his body had taken. He exhaled roughly, his chest aflame from the surrounding heat. He was going to die here. And…he was ok with that. He hated that he was ok with that, knowing he should be strong as a member of the Elite Guard but, where were they? He saw no sign of them. He didn’t blame them, they probably wanted this. He wasn’t much help, he only caused destruction. What kind of a useful weapon is fire anyway?? Did he cause this? Did he cause his own death? A staticked chuckle pushed itself past his burnt metal lips. He deserved this didn’t he? Jetstorm didn’t need him, he was always great on his own; he didn’t need him. Jetfire’s flickering optics looked around him. He was surrounded by wild flames but past that, he could see trees, or… what was left of them. Tall burnt, shriveled sticks laid where lush green trees used to stand. He laid on a ground of wet mud, as the flames around him melted any remaining snow in the area. His optics dulled. So…he did do this. He could feel coolant try to fall from his wet optics but it would simply evaporate. The flames seemed to rise, knowing his emotions and feelings; after all, he did make them; and they crept closer to his frame. “I”. His voice couldn’t seem to work, making him frown. “I be sorry”. He pushed through the pain of his burning throat, even though it was begging to not be used, begging for recovery. “I be sorry brother”. His Russian accent almost seemed to melt away, taking his voice box with it. The pain was unbearable, but shouldn’t he be used to it? After all the things he had done to himself, why did this hurt the most? His chest tightened around his spark, almost feeling as though it began crushing it. He groaned. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. But, he knew he deserved it. Didn’t he? He had to, right? It didn’t matter. He was going to finally die, and nothing could stop that. He looked at himself, using all the strengthen left to lift his head up. Both of his legs had burnt cabling jetting out of them, and sparks flying. His hands where as dark as soot, creating black streaks on his body and the surrounding ground around him. All white on his beautiful frame was now a dark, murky, deep grey. And his Autobot insignia. It was melted, fused to his chest plate. On the ground around him was bright pink Energon, some of it even boiling. He was a fucking mess. “I was so sure”. He smiled at the hazy sky before shutting his eyes for the last time.

     His body shook, tears dripping out of his bright blue optics. Jazz held him close, stroking his back comfortingly while glancing at Sentinal Prime, who was looking down; grief lacing his faceplate. “I-“. The Prime hesitated. “I don’t know what we can do”. The crying mech glanced furiously at him, his teeth moving into a snarl. “What?! What you mean you don’t know what we can do?!” Jetstorm clawed at his helm, placing scratches in it. “We don’t know where he went. He was out of control”! The prime persuaded the young bot, knowing anything else he could say wound make him snap. “Brother is out there”! Jetstorm choked oh his dripping tears as Jazz patting his back slightly to help him. Sentinal Prime looked at his cremate, not knowing what to do in a situation like this. “Jetstorm I-”. The furious blue mech interrupted him. “Please…Don’t tell me anything”. His voice was now much calmer as he sobbed openly. “I will go find Jetfire, With or without your help”. He pushed himself away from Jazz and ran out of the ship before transforming quickly and jetting off, as fast as he could possibly go. The air was cold, yes, but he couldn’t give two flying shits. He needed Jetfire. He needed his twin. Jetstorm knew that he would never forgive himself if he allowed Jetfire to offline himself. But…what if he was too late? Despite being in jet mode, coolant still fell from his optics. He sped up, not caring about any of the sleeping humans below. He needed to find his twin. He blasted through the city, advancing to the full forest past Lake Erie.  He didn’t know how far he traveled, but it felt like it took him years just to leave the city. Jetstorm’s thoughts where full of hatred. All words himself. He could have been there. He SHOULD have been there. But he wasn’t. His brother was out there; in the freezing frost; hurt and full of self-hatred. He needed his brother. And his brother needed him.

     The flight was long, too long before Jetstorm could see smoke in the distance, causing his to go at full blast. Before he knew it, a puff of smoke became hungry flames, reaching high into the air. He transformers quickly, hitting the earth hard before looking around at the hissing inferno. His breaths where frantic. This had to be his doing. It HAD to! Coolant stained his cheek as he moved hand up, before sending a powerful blast of a water cyclone at the flames, extinguishing a few of them. He did this a few times, checking every spot he could. He wouldn’t give up, but there was no sign of his beloved brother.  That was, until he stepping something. He slowly looked down and lifted his foot. He let out a chocked sob as pink Energon coated his ped. He set is foot down, and looked around ferociously until his eyes fell on a sigh that he wished he never saw. Jetfire laid on the muddy ground, none of his colors where even recognizable as he was covered in scorched soot. Jetstorm sprinted to his brother and slid on his knees to the burnt frame. “B-brother”? His voice was barely above a whisper as he went to go touch him, but froze, hands above his twin’s chest, feeling the heat radiating off of his frame. “Poor b-brother”. His sobs returned as he laid his helm on his twin’s chest, and sobbed into it. He was too late. He had failed himself but most importantly, he had failed Jetfire. “Brother, I am of the sorry”! He sobbed and sobbed, till he couldn’t sob anymore. He kept his helm on his brother and heaved a quivered sigh as loose tears washed away a bit of soot on Jetfire’s frame. His brother was gone. Gone forever.

Ba-dum

“W-what”?

Ba-dum

Jetstorm froze before placing his audio fin over the center of his brother’s chest.

Ba-dum

Was it?

Ba-dum

It was!

     A spark beat filled his ears, causing him to burst into tears again, but not from sadness. Oh no, not from sadness at all.  Jetstorm pulled his brother’s limp body into his arms and sobbed. He was alive. Jetfire was alive. “T-thank t-the All S-Spark”! The fire that used to surround the twins had died down, now only weak little flames, being extinguished  quickly by the snow that began to fall. He scooped his brother up gently in his arms and used one hand to comm Sentinal. Moments later, a swirl of blue and green appeared, and Jetstorm heaved a sigh. “Brother, we be heading home”.

Willful Neglect

author:

Anonymous

summary:

"Dazai..." Chuuya's voice comes out too tight and small, unlikely to ever reach Dazai. His hand lifts shakily, in some dazed attempt to stop him. There is panic wild and fast in his chest, the beginnings of hyperventilation, his breaths shallow and quick.   Something's wrong, something's wrong—   This hurts too much, it's not supposed to be like this—   His vision is blurring, and his head is taut and aching with the stress and anxiety and so much anguish that he can barely comprehend it. The last of Dazai's hazy form disappears, far in the distance. _______   Forced into a difficult situation, Dazai has to leave Chuuya behind post-Corruption without his usual thorough check-up. Only, he has no idea just what state Chuuya was in as he was walking away from him that night. Grief is a good teacher on how to value those you love. When he gets Chuuya back, Dazai uses his lessons well.

Crocodile Teeth

author: Magicalfish

summary:

After an altercation with Floyd, Sebek has to swallow his pride and learn to accept help.

Sebek's overblot story.

I wish I was hated in all my social media, so I could cut myself, not thinking about that someone is caring for me.

I wish I could vent to someone... Or at least be hugged. I can't I'm turning into a whimpering mess, all covered in snot, tears, saliva and feeling nauseous. I hate myself

I want to commit suicide.

Fuck recovery. I wanna cut.

WAR IS OVER

People with anor!!x!@ can you tell me how did it start? And how much weight do I need to lose?

(Height: 160. Weight: 43 kg)

"Dad issues"

"Mommy issues"

Nah-uh, I'm the issue

I wanna comm!t su!c!de on my birthday. I'll be free. I'll get rid of the pain. And when I do it, everyone will be happy.

I'm sorry mom for being a bad daughter. I'm sorry for the bad grades, but now... You don't need to worry about them<3

19.03.2024.

Never expected to stay clean(?) for 14 days... Well, how to say clean.... If I can't cut, I'll beat, bite, and burn myself, just because it gives me more pleasure. And I bit myself so hard that there are bruises left after that

How many degrees do I need to make a first degree burn? Just trying new methods of sh!

Can someone give me another methods of self-harm which isn't visible? Cuz soon in our school will be a medical checkup and I don't wanna end up in psych ward!

I'm f#cked up.

I'm tired, I'm tired of everything. All my hobbies became a daily routine, and I don't feel anything towards them. My friends started to avoid me after my vents, and I completely understand this. I'm tired of school, and I haven't got any straight to just get up or change clothes after school. All I think about is s3lf-h@rm and how much I want to commit su!c!de. I feel like my life is trying to force me to do it. I feel like it'll happen. And I know that I will commit su!c!de.

I tried to k!ll myself by cvtting my veins, but the saddest thing is that the knife didn't reach them.

TW/CW: SU!C!DE

Can't describe how much I want to commit su!c!de. Just the thought of my body laying in the snow, which soaked with my bl00d, while my phone recording me and thousands of people could see how I struggled makes my desire only bigger. Looks like I'll end up jumping off the roof... Anyways who cares...

TW: CW: SU!C!DE PLAN.

Okay, okay... I think I've suffered enough, so... This is how I wanna end my life.

Firstly, I've decided that I wanna jump off the roof, because this seems the best way to do it. I already found a high-rise building, so I just need to come in, and when I wait for people to open the door for me, I'll start a livestream. Before I jump, I'll cvt myself, and I'll cvt so much that I'll be a piece of meat. After that I'll jump off the roof, hoping that someone will remember me. I'll also wear my favorite clothes, because if die I'd prefer to die only in it.

I feel like all my friends are tired from me, and praying for me committing suicide

I have no idea what's happening with me. I don't know why but I started to want to lose some weight, and be skinner, even though my weight is 46 kg with a height of 160 cm. And I'll try to do it, I wanna weigh 43 kg or 40... I also will try to do exercises and eat not too much... I hate my body.

It's funny to hear these "you matter" and other shit of this type from people, when you're literally a useless piece of muscles and organs, and can't go and commit su!c!de because it's too painful.

I hate being in the manic phase, because depression always will come when it ends. It's like waiting for a disaster, you know that it'll happen, but you can do nothing about it.

Okay, I got used to relapse after few days of school, but.... WHY THE F#CK I RELAPSED ON HOLIDAYS? I can't describe how much I wanna cut my arms in a bl!!dy mess, I can't describe how much I wanna make deep cuts, but... I'm still afraid of my self-h!!rm being discovered... Especially if it'll see my teachers, neurologist, parents, etc... I just don't get this feeling when I cut my legs:(. Also I'm self-h!!rm!ng about 7 months, lol

I'm afraid that I won't pass my exams... In 9 grade, I'll have exams, which will help me to go in 10 grade, but... I have serious issues with maths... I'm afraid that if I won't pass it, I'll go and commit suicide. Somewhere, deep, in my soul, I don't want die cuz of it. But I feel like I will and like I should.

But... Even if I'll commit suicide, people will just forget me, and I'll be just a random kid, that made grave for themselves. I... I have no idea what to do...

World would be better if I'd be dead or aborted