I wrote a post in February titled Self Harm, Depression, and Monsters Under the Bed. It was a hard and honest look at what my life has been like dealing with self harm and depression, and I was terrified to finally get it out. I was so scared to show the pain and talk about something that felt like a giant monster that was constantly waiting for me, and it hurt my relationships with others, and most importantly with myself.
WARNING: This post is real. It talks about real things and real struggles and real pain. If you know that it’ll be too much for you, skip this post for now.
I first noticed it in high school. That empty nothing that made my chest feel hollowed out and my brain like a cavernous echo chamber. I remember thinking, “Huh. That’s weird. I don’t feel anything.”
There wasn’t sadness or loneliness or pain. Just nothing. Vast, empty, nothing. Continue reading “Self Harm, Depression, and Monsters Under the Bed”