This is absolutely terrifying. Just look at it, it is so real and astonishing. You need to reblog this. I don’t care if you’re used to reblogging orange, teenage girls with vans on. I don’t care if you’re used to reblogging vintage or photography. This is real. You can even see the fury in his eyes. The tense muscles in between his fingers. The heavy breathing. reblog this. NOW.in all seriousness thoughM..my heart just stopped… ;~;Guys, you’ve got to reblog this. It’s reality and it needs to be brought to everyone’s attention.I lost a friend to this kind of harassment. I really don’t want to remind myself of everything that happened so I won’t say a word about it. All I will say is, he was one of my best friends and the kindest person I had ever known. The pain I went through after his death was indescribable. I want you all to know that it’s not easing knowing that someone you love had such thoughts that they didn’t deserve living anymore. I’m not good with words at all so please excuse this lousy paragraph I have attempted to write to move you. I am serious though. Don’t ignore this.i’m going to reblog forever.This kills me, please stop this.it seriously hurts to know people say thishow the fuck could you possibly send someone hate, or make rude comments when you know all to well that this could be the outcome, makes me sick. somebody please stop this from happening.
It’s not that I don’t think my parents didn’t care about me, or didn’t do a good job of raising me, but they’ve always made me feel like good grades always have to come first before anything else and I’m sick and tired of it.
I always used to have mental breakdowns around exam time. I’d tried to take my life and I tried to run away and when I came back around, my parents demanded to know what I was going to do about my marks. They wouldn’t let me miss a day of school even though I thought I was going to break down at every moment because of the pressure I was put under.
When I was in the hospital for suicide watch for 3 weeks, every time they visited me they asked me how much longer I was going to be in there because I couldn’t afford to miss any more school. They didn’t ask me how I felt, they would ask me if I’d gotten school work so I could at least do something during school hours. They didn’t ask me if I wanted to kill myself anymore, or if I wanted to hurt myself, they only asked about what I was going to do with my school work.
One time before my exams, I tried to run away. I packed my car and was ready to drive off, but I was stopped by a friend who cared about me too much, a girl who still remains in my heart for reasons that I could always tell she cared about me. I talked to my guidance counsellor about it and he said I didn’t have to worry about his exam (since he was my homeroom teacher) and said he could also look into different options for my other exams. He emailed me later saying that my second period teacher would let me miss my exam and wouldn’t count it towards my final mark, but my parents made me take the exam and they made me take my homeroom exam, even though I clearly wasn’t in the right mind to do so.
I was having a conversation with my vocal tutorial teacher here and I was telling her how I didn’t do as well as I’d hoped in some of my classes last semester. She told me it didn’t matter so long as I was getting the experience. I told her my worst mark was in my elective, and she told me it was unlikely I would ever need that information again anyways. But, even as she tried to convince me that these marks didn’t matter, and I told her how I’d been raised in a household where nothing mattered except marks, she told me she could tell I was getting upset.
I was raised in a household that put my schoolwork ahead of my mental and physical health. I was forced to go to school on days when I wanted to kill myself or puke. I felt my parents were more disappointed in my bad marks than they were proud in my good marks. They didn’t care that I could name every Tony Award winning award musical since 1990 but cared that I couldn’t tell the difference between a base and a solution. No, I don’t understand biology but I can do a triple time step. I don’t know the formula to figure out the area of an oval but I can recite Shakespearean sonnets and monologues.
It’s not that my parents didn’t love me. But I often felt like they didn’t care. And to this day, I'm still afraid to open up to them about my problems. I'm afraid to tell them when something is wrong because I'm always afraid they'll dismiss it, and make it feel like it doesn't matter.
In 2-3 weeks on January 22nd I'll hit my 1 year recovery mark from self-harm. I want to make a big status about it on Facebook but I still have no idea what to say. I have a lot of ideas for it though. One of my ideas was just writing a story about "a girl who felt lost, depressed, and suicidal. she felt so bad about her life that she used to hurt herself, not just once a week but every day" and then eventually be like hey surprise that was me a year ago and then come around and be like the sad part of the story isn't that that was once me, it's the fact that this story still relates to hundreds of thousands of teenagers today who struggle with depression and self-harm and suicidal thoughts and we do nothing about it to try and stop them because they're ashamed of it and think it needs to be hidden.
I just ... I want this status to create a big reaction out of people. January 22nd will be a huge deal for me and I want people to know.
So I keep being like "Okay. I'm going to talk to my parents about getting my tattoo" and then I keep chickening out guys I just want to be like "I WANT TO GET A TATTOO. I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS AND WHAT I WANT TO GET FOR AWHILE AND WHEN I SAY AWHILE I MEAN LIKE PROBABLY A YEAR AND I WANTED TO WAIT UNTIL I WAS EIGHTEEN TO DO IT AND I'VE TALKED TO MY MANAGER (who you guys have known for like ten-twelve years) AND SHE SAID SHE'LL HELP SET UP AN APPOINTMENT WITH THE GUY SHE GETS THEM WITH AND THIS ISN'T REALLY ME ASKING FOR PERMISSION SO MUCH AS IT IS ME JUST HOPING FOR YOU BEING LIKE OKAY IT'S YOUR CHOICE"
I just really want this tattoo.
For those of you who don't know, I want to get a N2N-inspired tattoo on my right back/shoulder blade. When I was first going into the hospital, I had not told one of my best friends everything that was happening with my mental issues and all that and it was breaking my heart. So I told her I was going to the mental ER and she quoted Maybe (Next to Normal) to me and it's always really stuck with me. So, I want to get the crazy music staff at the top of the album art with the words "Something next to normal would be okay" written in cursive. That moment has always really stuck with me and for the past year or so I've wanted to get a tattoo to remember those words of encouragement, and remind me that I have gotten past everything that's happened to me and I can continue to remind myself that it's okay to suffer, it's okay to not be "normal" by society's standards. It's okay.
One day in the future, I hope that they talk about suicide and it's just something that doesn't exist anymore. Kids in their classrooms will be shocked that it was ever such a thing. Rates of suicide will be nearly nonexistent and kids will have to be reminded that it was once a thing, rather than having to hear stories of someone who killed themselves nearly every day.
I keep wishing I had the courage to ask Susan for help from her for the tattoo I really want to get but I keep chickening out ...
So I've decided what I want to do for a [title of show] tattoo.
I feel like I would actually love to get a tattoo one day somehow representing the song "Die, Vampire, Die!" from [title of show]