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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 4 months

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It was only supposed to be a one-night stand (Part 1)

TW: suicide attempt, mentions of self harm, smut (kinda), yandere shenanigans

okay i mayyy have made this after like seeing a bunch of hot construction workers around my campus doing tinkering and shit and my saviour complex is also kinda flaring up too

and also this is my first ever cringefail yandere, he's not rich and he barely has connections and mans was suicidal

enjouy

Part 2

Everyone doesn't know why you didn't just block him, call the cops on him, or just... anything! You don't either.

This man has been following you around for months now. Leaving you flowers on your office desk, dropping parcels of gifts in front of your door, and visiting your workplace to give you boxes of freshly made takeout.

He's not much of a talker. Maybe it's because he can't exactly speak English well. But that was the only language he had ever spoken or written in before, as far as you know.

He's definitely intimidating everyone around you. Standing at an imposing height of what you think is 6'5, his back alone is usually enough to block the sun from your eyes. With his shaggy, brown hair covering his eyes, unkempt stubble covering his face and scruffy clothes; he usually wears an olive green shirt under his very worn chore jacket and a pair of shabby khaki pants. The man wears a pair of mildly tattered combat boots. He isn't ugly, perse, but he definitely isn't the standard of beauty in society. Your stalker has this rugged and disheveled vibe to him that some may like and most look down upon.

You think he's homeless, living in his beaten car and going to public gyms to shower. You've never seen him eating something he cooked himself, it's either he's eating something out of a styrofoam box, or a package good from convenience stores.

But he isn't unemployed. You know he is a construction worker, you caught him many times staring at you longingly as you hasten your pace, fleeing the soon-to-be shopping complex near your office. He was carrying a heavy set of wooden planks on his shoulder effortlessly, the stranger wiped his sweat using the back of his hand before adjusting his hard hat.

You didn't know that he worked in this field when you first met him. You always had a good heart... or at least a heart that simply cannot handle bystander guilt.

You were walking towards the subway one day, and it was late because you agreed to work overtime. The sky was pitch black, and the only thing that illuminated the path ahead was the lamps swarmed by millions of moths.

Entering the tunnel, there were only a few people around; either waiting for the train, for someone, or for a miracle. Regardless of what they're there for, they're all occupied in their own little world.

You were about to be immersed in the world of social media too, but your blasted phone died. So you're forced to stand in silence and become aware of your surroundings, nothing to numb yourself from the daily mundaneness.

And it was this awareness that led you to notice the man in the first place. You were guarded, taking a few steps away from him as he seemed extremely intoxicated. He was swaying and stumbling, in his calloused hand, held a brown glass bottle with liquid sloshing in it. The man was mumbling something, but it was too soft and incoherent for you to hear. He kept wiping his face using the back of his knuckles.

He, just like everyone else except you, is in his own personal hell too. He spared no attention for you or anything else except his own drunken stupor, so you deem it relatively safe to watch him from where you're standing. The stranger is your only source of entertainment at the moment anyway, the train is coming soon, so why not watch him for a bit more and laugh at him internally for being at his lowest? Certainly, it would never happen to you.

You were snapped out of your own thoughts when you saw him going dangerously close to the ledge, crossing over the yellow line. At the same time, the sounds of wind rushing and rumbling reached your ears, if he falls onto the rails, he will definitely be done for. You looked behind your shoulder and saw bright lights coming from one end of the tunnel, calculating that you only have a couple seconds to make your decision.

You shouted for his attention, catching it and a few others around you. He stared at you with bloodshot, glassy eyes. However, he lost his footing and was about to fall to his ultimate demise.

The adrenaline rush amplified by the roar of the train wheels made you propel your feet toward him. You stretched your arm, grabbed him by the back of his jacket, and yanked him out of the danger zone with all your might. It definitely wasn't easy to move this hunky mass at all, but you did. And you saved him just at the nick of time, as the train rushed by, blasting a gust of wind against the two of you.

You must have underestimated your strength because he was flung back at high speeds. He grabbed your arm by instinct, trying to re-balance himself, and brought you down to the grimy subway floor with him.

You groan as you rush to sit up, cradling the arm that made contact with the ground. Scowling at the stranger for pulling such a stupid stunt in his inebriated state, upset that now you had a few pairs of judging eyes on you. You froze when you saw his eyes though, a unique glimmer made its way to his dark irises. His mouth is slightly ajar, he is staring at you with such intense reverence and adoration which you mistake as a mere alcoholic's intoxicated stare.

You screeched when he suddenly emptied the contents of his stomach on your work blouse. Shouting angry curses at him as his head was slumped to the ground and his eyelids shut.

You got up and tried to swipe as much puke away from you as you ran to the train. The last you saw him that night was in an extremely pathetic state, unconscious in his own puddle of vomit, a bottle of booze rolling away from him. People either crossed over him or walked over his body, sparing a few glances of pity or contempt before boarding the train themselves.

You thought that you were never going to see him again, with that much alcohol in his system, you would be surprised that he could even remember his own name. And you couldn't be more wrong.

A few days after that, you were in the same station, taking the same train because your boss needed you to finish the report by that day. This time, you're exhausted. Not sleeping, eating or enjoying your hobbies puts a toll on your energy levels, what a surprise.

You were nodding off in the train, struggling to keep yourself awake.

Maybe if you let yourself doze off, you'll wake up just in time for your stop. And so, you did, you let yourself drift into slumberland.

It was a mistake.

You were harshly woken up with a torch shining in your eyes and a booming voice telling you that the both of you have to leave, as this is the last stop. Lifting your head from a headrest, which actually was someone's broad shoulder. But you didn't realize that.

You were still half asleep, groggily and hastily gathering your things, not registering that the employee was also referring to another person in your proximity.

You muttered a small good night to the staff before exiting the train, yawning and stretching. Smacking your lips as you realized that your briefcase wasn't with you, must've left it back on your seat. So you turned around and walked forwards, only to ram yourself onto what you thought was an oddly shaped pillar. Cussing under your breath as you stumbled backwards, rubbing your head.

You let out a shocked yelp when you realized that it's the man instead. You were about to say something to him but your eyes landed on his side; he was holding the suitcase for you.

You stammered a quick thank you as you snatched it away from him, picking up the pace as you walked away. Howeever, you heard footfalls behind you.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw him following closely behind.

Perhaps he is also looking for an exit, so you silently lead the way to the nearest opening. But as you walk, you start to wonder; did he purposely stayed on the train with you? If he had to go somewhere he would have gotten off by then, if this was his stop, he would have left before the lights went out.

Finally, having to breath in fresh air once you exit the dusty station, you turned to look at him. Trying to discern which way is he heading.

He isn't moving. The man stood next to your side, staring straight ahead. As if he's waiting for you to take another step. After a few more seconds of idling, he turned his gaze to you.

Understandably being creeped out by this, you told him not to follow you. He blinked a couple times before continuing to stare.

Sighing, you asked him if he is lost. And you got no response.

You asked him if he is stupid. And you got no response.

Not giving a shit anymore, you picked a direction and walked. It's a long walk home and there will not be any trains left until the sun rises. As expected, he followed you all the way.

He is useful in warding off midnight catcallers and other seedy individuals that hang around alleys and empty streets. Who wouldn't be wary of him? He looks like he could easily pick them up by the scruff and fling them to the rooftops. But that means he could do that to you too, and that isn't comforting to know at all.

You reached home after an hour and a half of walking. The man is still on your trail, crowding you around the door as you unlocked it. You opened the door and immediately slipped in, he tried entering as well but you slammed it against his face. He watches you lock and latch your door through the window, he placed his hand on the glass and clawed at it a bit. You simply drew the curtains shut, praying hard that he isn't going to be there by sunrise.

Your prayers wasn't answered because you decided to check up on him an hour later. You saw him laying on the porch with his eyes closed and that tugged at your heartstrings a bit.

Maybe it's the sleep deprivation that is lowering your inhibitions, or you're just lonely and he doesn't look half bad. It could also be the cold one you cracked open that's screwing up with your soberness. Either way, you would have given yourself shit for opening the door and letting him in your house while the world is still asleep. If you get murdered, at least you won't need to go to work next week.

It was a blur, you remembered bits and pieces of his hands roaming your bare back, his cock impaling into you as he sloppily kissed you from the jaw to your neck. How his rough fingers fondled your genitals and how you were gripping your bedsheets as if your life depended on it.

Bouncing on him while you shoved your tongue down his throat was fun, especially when he wrapped his hand around the back of your head, preventing you from escaping him. Feeling the pleasant pressure on you as he pinned you to the firm bed. It was kind of him to shield your head with his hand from hitting the bedframe while he plows you from behind, iron gripping your hips with the other.

You remember starting it, demanding that he gives you something in exchange for staying a night here, you remembered pulling him into a deep, passionate, drunken kiss before he has a foot into the living room. You didn't give a shit about knowing his name or if he had any STDs, you just need to release a lot of frustrations.

You woke up hungover, with you being the small spoon while he held you tightly in his strong arms. They were littered in old scars, some clearly self inflicted.

You turned your head to see that he's still asleep, soft snores escaping his lips. Annoying to some.

Squinting as you let the sharp rays of light stab your eyes, you saw that your clothes and his were strewn all over the bedroom, the door wide open with a stray shoe resting next to it's hinges.

You looked at the clock and realized that you're going to be late. Being the workaholic you are, you shook the stranger in your bed awake. He was groaning and quietly whining about not wanting to get up, but shuts up as soon as you hurled his clothes at his face.

He shot up and cowered behind his arms as you continued throwing his articles of clothing at him, telling him that he has to leave because you need to go to work.

While he's composing himself, you rush to the bathroom to take a quick shower, pretending the cold stream of water is washing away all your sins from the night before. You lather up some soap before scrubbing your skin, internally beating yourself up for your irresponsible choices.

A familiar pair of arms snaked around your torso as you're pulled back into a strong chest, a pair of lips decided to flutter smooches on your temple and ear. His hands explored your naked body, utilizing the suds and the water to give you that electrically tingling sensation.

Of course, this intrusion wasn't taken lightly. You screamed and kicked him out of the shower, telling him to leave your house. You caught a glimpse of his confused and crestfallen look in his eyes, paired with his dripping wet hair and sopping wet body.

You finished your business, threw on a set of fresh clothes and rushed out of the door. And definitely dragging him out of there with you too, not giving a crap that he was in the middle of wearing his shirt.

You ran as fast as you could, wanting to catch the next train. And so did he, he chased after you and squeezed himself into the carriage.

Everyone was also rushing to work, there were no seats left nor were there any standing spots. Shoulders were bumping shoulders and the shorter passengers were at an all time disadvantage. You couldn't reach the handles; but he could.

As the door closes, the man held you close to him and rested his free hand on the small of your back. To outsiders, you and him looked like a run of the mill couple having each other. They couldn't be more wrong, you don't even know a single thing about him.

You just endured it, having no choice but to stick next to him. He yawned and frowned, looking quite displeased that he was not in your bed. Well, that's his fault, no one forced him to follow you back home, and no one forced him to stick himself inside of you.

Among the busy chatter in the train, you and him stayed silent. Gradually feeling comfortable in each other's embrace.

You mumbled curses under your breath, he knows where you live and he is going to know where you work. Couldn't this year get any worse?

As soon as the doors open, you make a mad dash out of the station. Running as fast as you could, not caring who you had to shove to clear your way.

You never looked back, but you made sure to take as many detours as possible to mess with his direction if he somehow managed to catch up to you. But your lungs and your out-of-shape-office-worker legs can only take you so far, you reach a nearby tree in a park next to your building.

You panted as you scanned your surroundings, only seeing the elderly, children, athletic adults, and their pets. No sign of that man you slept with last night.

You took a couple more minutes to catch your breath, knowing fully that your boss would chew you up for being close to an hour late. Whatever, you're here now. Let's earn your salary.

So you walked, it's just a couple minutes away. Nothing else should go wrong today-

You had an incredulous look on your face when you saw him loitering at the entrance. Your colleagues glance him up and down, some admiring the way his muscles slightly stick out of his shirt, some wondering what an unkempt hunk like him is doing in front of such a corporate, sanitized venue.

There was no way to sneak past him, you just had to face him. It was... cute that his eyes lit up as soon as he saw you. So you sighed as you marched up to him, requesting him to leave you alone as politely as you could. There was an edge to your tone, he must either be oblivious to it or he's simply choosing to ignore the fact that you're unhappy with him here.

During mid-sentence, he presented you with a paper plate that had a hotdog on it. You were speechless, it had everything on it: ketchup, mustard, relish, pickles, mayonnaise, cheese, Jalapeño slices, onions, beef chili, and other heaps of things that you couldn't identify. With the number of toppings, you couldn't tell that it was a hotdog in the first place, it was just a mountain of random savory foodstuffs. Your eyes darted to his other hand, it also had a hotdog wrapped in a napkin, except his one only had relish.

"I didn't know what you liked..." He mumbled, voice so deep that you could feel the vibrations in your own chest. The man looked at you with hope, wanting you to accept the plate of everything as breakfast.

You shook your head and said you were late to work. Pushing him away from the door before entering the building, some of the topping amalgamations spilled onto his shirt. Probably staining it forever with its oil content.

He stood there with a frown, he craned his head downwards to stare at the spill.

Then, he looked back up to see that you were out of sight. His shoulders sagged as he placed his own hotdog on top of your plate of horrors.

The man walked away as he pulled out a plastic spoon that he tucked in his pocket, it was given to him by the vendor because it is impossible to eat your order with hands.

He began digging in, throwing one last glance at the main door behind him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #tw sex mention #tw self destruction #tw suicide attempt

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gryfferin-gaybies · 1 month

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Coping

"I've got you. I've got you." Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's shaking body, holding him tight against his own chest. "Shhh. I've got you."

Draco sobbed in his arms, loud and ugly and unrefined. The sound of his sorrow made Harry's heart break. Harry lowered them to the ground until Draco was sitting between his legs, his back against Harry's chest. His hands went to pull at his hair, a negative response to stress. Harry grabbed his wrists to pull them away so he wouldn't harm himself.

"Draco, breathe. Breathe. It's ok," Harry said into Draco's shoulder.

Draco pulled his knees up to his chest. "I can't," he choked out between sobs, shaking his head. "I-I can't."

Harry felt tears begin to prickle his eyes and he willed them away. "Yes, you can, Draco. Come on. Breathe for me. In . . . Out . . . In . . . Out . . ." He exaggerated his breaths so his chest would move with each one, moving Draco with him.

Draco continued to sob and wail and hyperventilate, but Harry kept talking him through breaths until he seemed to start to try to mimick him.

"That's it. There you go," Harry encouraged, praising Draco for his efforts to calm down. "Just like that, Draco. Just keep breathing with me."

---

"Thank you," Draco said minutes after he'd calmed down, his voice cutting through the quiet, the only sound in the air their synchronized breathing.

Harry had let go of Draco's wrists to wrap his arms around his waist. "Always. It's what I'm here for."

Draco turned his head to get a glimpse of the man holding him, grounding him. His gaze was met with Harry's. He turned in the bracket of Harry's outstretched legs so they were chest to chest. He searched Harry's eyes and then kissed him, rough and heated.

"Woah," Harry said, breaking the contact. "What're you-" He broke off unsure of how he wanted to finish that question.

"Please," Draco said, peppering open-mouthed wet kisses to Harry's jaw and neck. "I need this. I need . . . something." He sucked on his skin where Harry's neck met his shoulder.

"I—" Harry started, his words lost in a soft groan when Draco dragged his teeth lightly against the sensitive patch of skin. "I—Draco, this isn't—I don't—Draco." He held his hands up awkwardly, unsure what to do.

Draco took Harry's hands and put them on his waist. "Shh. Stop talking and kiss me."

Harry pulled away, removing his hands from Draco's body again. "Draco, we can't."

"Why not?" Draco moved his hands under the hem of Harry's shirt, running his fingers over his abs. "Please," he breathed. His tongue darted out to lick his lips.

Harry couldn't stop his eyes from tracking the movement. He shook his head, regaining his focus. "Draco, why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to be distracted. So please, distract me." He leaned back in to kiss Harry again.

Harry wanted to give Draco exactly what he was looking for. His body was already responding to the touch of the other man—the man he'd been secretly in love with for months. It took more strength than he even knew he had to deny him when it was what they both wanted. "Draco." It came out as more of a moan than it was supposed to. "Draco," he tried again. "This isn't a good idea. Merlin, you make it hard to do the right thing."

"Then don't," Draco whispered seductively. He nipped playfully at Harry's earlobe.

Harry tilted his head to give Draco better access to his throat and felt a teardrop fall on his neck. He moved away again, standing this time to back out of Draco's reach entirely. "Draco, you can't use sex to avoid your feelings."

Draco stood so they were on the same level again. "Why not," he mumbled.

"I'm here for you, Draco. I'm not going anywhere. But I love you too much to let you do something unhealthy that you'll regret. I want you. Fuck, I want you. I have for a long time. But not like this."

Draco closed his eyes and let out a deep breath through his nose. He nodded and ran his hands through his hair. "Fine." He stormed off past Harry.

"Draco, wait. Where are you going?" Harry knew the answer. He wasn't sure why he asked when he knew he didn't want to hear it.

"If you won't fuck me until I forget how miserable I am, I'm going to go find someone who will." His expression was closed off. He turned on his heel to continue making his exit.

It hurt Harry to hear him say it. "Draco, please. This won't make you feel better. You know it won't."

"It will in the moment and that's all I want right now." He didn't even look back at Harry when he said it.

Harry felt tears begin to prickle his own eyes as he watched the man he loved, on his way to self destruct, to sleep with someone else. Harry felt like he might be sick at the thought of someone taking advantage of Draco's grief. He felt like he might be sick at the thought of Draco letting them.

#draco x harry #harry potter #drarry #drarry fanfic #adult drarry #fanfic #microfic #drarry microfic #drarry angst #sex is a bad coping mechanism #draco self destructive #hpdm fanfic #hpdm

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glorious-spoon · 9 months

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most unrelatable fiction trope is 'i am mad at him for legitimate reasons and i SHOULD be mad at him since he hasn't properly apologized, but he's Just So Sexy being all rude and domineering that i want to drop to my knees and suck him off instead'

#spoon vs. romance novels #it'd be interesting if it was actually destructive instead of a 'this sex scene totally counts as an apology' thing #but alas it never is

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scarabvomitsauce · 4 months

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God you’re insufferable

I simply must have sex with you

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fleshdyke · 2 months

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#csa warning for tags #ughhh ik i was just talking abt this but man. Man. constantly bullied as a child + raped as a child is a brutal combo huh #completely irreversibly fucked up sense of intimacy. i dont want to have sex with anyone i dont care what ppl think of me looks wise but i #also care more than anything and want people to want me so bad #like when ur only experience with anyone at all finding you desirable is being raped at 6ish. fucks u up man #was constantly told by everyone i knew that i was undesirable from day fucking one. i was always the one ppl would dare their friends to #'ask out' bc everyone thought i was that bad. i never had those rumours of 'some boy likes you' without people laughing in the background #all of my friends. even the ones that were also weird kids and bullied etc etc always have stories of other kids having crushes on them or #whatever. and i just never had that. it feels like i missed out on something important #i want to be pursued by a guy i hate i want them to not leave me alone. i want to feel like im in danger. and i know how fucking disgusting #that is but i cant help it. like i feel like thats the only way im going to feel normal and wanted like theres not something inherently #wrong with me. and i know how dangerous that is but its not like it matters anyways bc still no one likes me at all.#and i know how stupid of a thing it is to obsess over like what am i 9 years old? but i just cant get it out of my head #like idk i feel like the only way im going to actually feel desirable at all is if someone tries to rape me again. or if i feel like i have #to worry about someone raping me again. i know i wouldnt feel that way if someone was like. nice about it.#bc if someone genuinely liked me and was a decent human being about it i wouldnt be able to see it as anything other than faking it for pit #i wouldnt be able to believe it. even if i wasnt waiting for them to drop the joke and start laughing at me i would always think it was jus #an act bc they feel bad for me. the only way i could ever think it's genuine and that i'm desirable at all is if someone sexually #harassed me. like idk how to explain it but thats the only way i could feel desirable at all #bc it's the only way i've ever been desirable. when i was a kid.#and it terrifies me so bad bc i know how fucking disgusting that is and how self destructive it is #but i still feel like i dont even have to really worry about being assaulted. bc i still believe im completely undesirable at my core.#i dont believe i could be desired so i dont believe i have to worry about being raped. bc no one would want to anyways #rambles #vent

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sciderman · 3 months

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didn't Peter date Felicia while he and Gwen were on that break

YEP. he did. he did. and maybe he reasoned it was okay because technically. it was spider-man dating felicia. that’s not cheating either.

#I don’t think peter feels so guilty about felicia.#but he was in a self-destructive spiral when he dated felicia: see it came from outer-space!#I think he thought being more casual about sex would solve some of his problems.#it didn’t. he couldn’t really get more casual about sex. but he tried.#sci speaks

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thelunarsystemwrites · 18 days

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LusterrorTale

A horrortale x underlust AU!

(Lore below cut! TW for talk of: suicide, death, sex, sexual violence, starvation, depression, addiction!)

So the idea of LusterrorTale, is after a neutral run from Frisk—Toriel and Asgire are dead, as they killed both. So Undyne immediately became queen.

So... things play out, magic in the underground starts dying. They're trying to fix to core, food starts running low as magic does-

Dead. Alphys, who was keeping the core alive... killed herself. So the core kinda just.. breaks, with only Sans knowing how to fix it.

This sent Undyne into a deep depression with her lover dead. In a fit of rage, she blamed Sans for it and you know.. shattered his skull. (She blamed him because he was helping Alphys with the core, so she believes Sans should've seen the signs.)

Now, with the core dead and magic at an all time low—In this au, there's one natural way of making magic with two monsters—Which is uh, doing the deed. It causes magic to build up.

Sooooo basically all the monsters, since they're starving for magic, all kinda go sex crazy. They become addicted to it, since they're desperate for the magic that becomes like a high.

In this AU, it focuses more on sexual violence, depression, starvation—It's a blend of Horrortale and Underlust in the fact that it combines starvation with desire. The design for Sans here was originally intended for an AU I was making with a friend, but we changed it. So I decided to give this guy his own AU!

So yeah, SA is unfortunately, very common in the underground. So is Monsters offing themselves, it's INCREDIBLY depressing. The idea is the underground has reached its lowest, where everyone is scrapping for a bit more.

...Oh yeah, the human who falls is a therapist-

HorrorTale by sour-apple studios!

Underlust by NSFWshamecave!

LusterrorTale by me!

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jeellyjams · 8 days

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i think act 3 should climax with a sex scene

#pun intended #ultrakill #gabv1el mutually assured destruction but it's sex

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eatacidsseesatan · 4 months

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najlepsze uczucie...

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trans-axolotl · 9 months

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for about two years now ive struggled with relapses in self harm and have not really known how to deal with my desires for harm, health, and existing thoughts on antipsychiatry. ive been accessing psychiatric resources for well over a decade with a lot of trauma inflicted over that time. ive also dealt with really harsh approaches to reducing self harm that both began the problem in the first place and worsened it.

ive been working with my therapist to stop self harming but, to be honest, i have no desire to stop. i try my best to reduce risk where i can such as not self harming in an emotional state, using clean implements, and keeping it light. previously i didnt care about any of those things and self harm was mainly a dangerous coping mechanism. but now i see it almost as a form of body modification with a lot of intentionality to it.

i really dont know what to think. its objectively dangerous since i am harming myself but i also cant agree with the general aims of therapy and psychiatry to stop self harming as an ultimate goal. i want to be happy and healthy and for me that means living with self harm as a reality of something i will continue to do. and i think its my right as an autonomous person to choose what i do with my body, even if its harmful. yet i can feel the claws of psychiatry and feel so much shame and hatred towards the fact i cant stop. or more significantly, that i dont want to.

sorry for such a long ask, but essentially what im getting at is, how does one handle harm reduction when there is no desire to ever fully stop? i believe in my own right to bodily autonomy but ive also been told repeatedly that using my bodily autonomy to harm myself makes me undeserving of it and instead in need of carceral punishment. how do i even begin to navigate those contradictions of feeling like ive been horribly hurt and dehumanized and feeling like on some level ive deserved that dehumanization because of the pain i inflict? is self harm as body modification even a concept or idea that people have discussed? since i mainly just see it discussed as a coping mechanism.

content note: continued discussion of self harm and self harm methods.

Hi, anon. Thanks so much for reaching out.

I really resonated with so much of what you shared. It's really hard to try to navigate all our feelings associated with self harm when we are constantly hearing from society that our self harm makes us dangerous or unworthy or unable to live outside of institutions. For me, it honestly feels really violating when other people like providers try to push their narrative of what self harm means onto me. My relationship with my self harm is so personal and there's a lot of different meaning I attach to it, and I want the room to be able to talk about it in a way that actually makes sense to me.

Something that's helped me in trying to navigate all of this for myself is really just to come back to these values of bodily autonomy and harm reduction. A really important harm reduction value for me is that it is completely okay if people don't ever stop (whether we're talking about drugs, self harm, disorderly eating, etc). It's important to me that we can defend people's right to do all these things and recognize that harm reduction should not be just another method of coercion trying to convince people to stop. I strongly believe that people can have meaningful and valuable lives that also include self harm as a part of our lives. I want to build a world where we can say that we're not interested in completely stopping self harm and that statement is not reacted to with shame or blame, but rather with curiosity and respect for the fact that we are the experts on our own lives and choices. Part of encouraging autonomy is recognizing that we are allowed to make choices about our lives that might not be what the psych system wants us to make.

Anyway, all of this is to say: I think it's okay if you're not interested in ever stopping self harming, and I know a lot of people who also feel similarly to you. You absolutely have the right to interpret your self harm in a way that makes sense for you. I've definitely heard other people talk about self harm as body modification (I think some of the harm reduction zines in this google drive might talk about it, but I haven't read through them in a while. Continued content note for discussion of self harm, self harm methods, and diagrams of anatomy and self harm). It makes a lot of sense why you might connect self harm and body modification, and that's something that would resonate with a lot of other people. You have the right to build a life that includes self harm as a part of it, and find a way to do it that makes sense for your body and life.

That feeling of dehumanization you described is so so real. I really just feel a lot of rage towards a psychiatric system that makes us feel so hurt and conflicted. Untangling that learned shame and hatred towards ourselves is so fucking hard, but just know that you are not alone in that and that we have the right to reject the ways the psych system punishes us.

And I want to be clear that none of this is to downplay the very real harm, pain, or risk that can come with self harm, but rather to point out that abstinence only methods, shame, and carceral psychiatry did not do anything to support me with that. Instead, it left me feeling trapped and like it was worthless to even try to figure out what I needed in really difficult moments. So I also really just want to acknowledge and celebrate all the stuff you listed in your ask--using clean implements, not self harming in an emotional state, and keeping it light. I'm really glad that you've found some steps to take that make self harm more manageable for you. Those are not lesser steps or a waste of your time just because you are not interested in stopping self harm, and those things are such a great example of how harm reduction doesn't require you to stop self harming in order to make some changes that reduce risk.

Just sending a lot of love and solidarity to you, anon, from another person who is not interested in completely stopping self harm, even as my relationship to my self harm shifts and changes over the years. There are a lot of us out here and we deserve to have the space to openly talk about these things without facing judgement.

💜💜💜💜

#asks #self harm tw #antipsych #psych abolition #harm reduction #harm reduction is so important to me. didn't go on this in the main post bc it's a tangent but just like #the co-optation of harm reduction by the gov and nonprofits makes me so fucking annoyed.#i learned harm reduction from other sex workers and drug users bc it was what were doing to survive. to me harm reduction needs to be based #in radical autonomy and liberation and with the understanding that it's totally fine and neutral and okay if ppl never stop #also my own relationship to self harm is not one where stopping it completely is a priority. there's a few forms of self harm i want to sto #bc it's really hard to accurately judge the risks of that self harm. and also because it was really difficult for my loved ones to watch an #i care about that. but i feel totally okay with the thought that cutting may or may not be a part of my future. and that i will find #love joy meaning. all of that. regardless. and that there are times im grateful for how self harm helped me survive #as much as there are times i hate it and times that self harm were so incredibly destructive to other parts of my life. it is soooo complex #for me! and i cannot just label it the way psychs want me to #anyway. lots of love anon.

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