aww thank you for the thoughts! But like I said you don’t need to donate! I don’t want anyone to be short, you know? All I ask is maybe share the link and spread the word. Because the more people who see it, even if they only share or donate a dollar, it will add up! Plus, thoughts go a long way to getting things done :) Thank you so much!
gah! thank you!!! That’s awesome! oh yeah! $10! So excited! my first ten! I
My name is Brayden Tyler. I am just your normal 22 year old guy. Except I was born a woman. For as long as I can remember I have hated myself. It got to the point that I thought I was this horrible person. That I was a freak because I wasn’t what I was “supposed” to be. I wasn
As you all know I am in the process of saving money for top surgery…
Unfortunately I am also saving money for my last year of college…
I can’t do both… I’ve still saved nothing…
I don’t ask for help. And I don’t like to because I know times are tough on us all.
But even if you cannot donate can you please spread the word for me and share the link to my page?
It would be greatly appreciated… You have no idea how much it would mean to me.
I’ve waited my whole life to get the approval to undergo top surgery; to finally become what I’ve felt all my life.
I can’t wait to feel comfortable in my own body… Because I’ve never felt that way.
Please, please, please, please! Even if you can’t donate… Can you share the link!!
Even a dollar will help…
I <3 you all!
Accepting all friend requests!
Oh and thanks to many messages I will keep this blog open. I will need help with running it however. So I will be accepting applications through Facebook.
Friend me and send me a message!!
Brayden Tyler Schmidt
Hey guys. I am sorry I haven’t been one in a while. But I am recovering and doing well!! Which leads me to the unfortunate conclusion that I have to delete my blog. I have another, but it won’t be about self harm, depression, or eating disorders. It will be about HELPING those with eating disorders and self harm. I will not post images of self harm or anything of the sort. It won’t be a silly inspirational blog either. Just somewhere where you can talk to me if you need help or a friend. It will have kitties, and news, and lots of love!
So instead of ignoring you all, which I’ve kind of been doing because recovery is tough on here… I will be changing things instead. I actually use another site now. It’s an up and coming social media site called “jux” It’s pretty cool to be honest. A change from this. I like it. My URL is:
Anyway you can find me there and it would be something fun for you to get into as well!!
My new Tumblr will be spiritzoflife.tumblr.com
I apologize, but I know that being on this blog isn’t helping me any and I don’t want to hurt others.
So please! Follow my new blog! Midnight Monday this blog will be deleted.
Please please please! Send me your reasons. Even if you think it is stupid or not a good enough reason! Tell me why you self harm! Nothing is going to change until we do something. This is what I’m gonna do. Please watch and help!
Dave I had no idea I’m so sorry
You never thought anyone would notice. Hell, you never thought it mattered.
It started small (doesn’t everything?), with an idle nick on the underside of your calf. Not the wrists, because that was too easy; that meant you were seeking attention, the internet said, and you weren’t, damnit. Attention was never your goal. This wasn’t some weird cry-for-help.
You just wanted the hole in your gut to feel a little less empty.
It grew from there, though. You found out why people preferred their arms: it hurt more. After a few weeks, you just started wearing long sleeves. Nobody ever questioned it. It was the beginning of fall. Why would anybody question it?
Hell, for them to question it, they’d have to notice you were there first.
Some days, you wished you weren’t. Some days, it didn’t seem worth it. You got up, you went to school, you fought your way through class, you ate lunch alone, you struggled with your homework, you came home. You locked the door behind you when you woke up, you unlocked it when you got off the bus.
On those days, the blade dug a little deeper.
You saw your Bro less and less, because he never checked your room, and you rarely left it. There were raps to write, and stories to get lost in. There were movies to watch. There was not a single fucking reason for you to interact with the outside world.
Every day was the same. You’d fit your key into the lock, the door would click open, and you’d call into an empty house. “Bro, you home?”
He never was. Work, he said.
Always work. Always something.
Until the day it wasn’t anymore.
Until one day you came home, and you barely got the word ‘home’ out of your lips before your brother was crushing your form against his chest, hugging you so tight you couldn’t breathe, whispering choked apologies into your ear, ragged promises that he’d be there for you, that he was always there for you, that he was so goddamn fucking sorry he’d ever let you feel like you were fighting against the world alone.
You think about denying it, about laughing it off.
He yanks up your sleeve, fingers playing over old scars, fresh wounds.
He’s there as you sink to the floor, his arms strong around you. He asks you what you need, his voice full of anxious concern, and you tell him this, just this, because all you’ve ever needed is someone to be there when you’re weak, to hold you when you can’t stand, to be your backup when the world is too much.
He asks you why you didn’t say anything, and you shrug helplessly. What was there to say?
“Anything,” he says. “Anything at all.”
You shake your head. “This,” you say, gesturing at your scars, “Was never a cry for help.”
“Yes it was,” he answers. “You just didn’t realize it.”
You think that after so long you would forget what you are missing, but no… It just gets compounded…
When you don’t even want to cry anymore… You’re just dead inside. No emotion, nothing… Just going through the motions of life because you don’t know what else to do.
It doesn’t seem like I am most of the time… Depression isn’t a choice, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t CHOOSE to try and fix myself… Depression itself may not be a choice, but I still have the ability to say enough is enough and kill this depression.
Next time you feel this way don’t dwell on it… Message me! Whether you self harm, are thinking about suicide, are just tired of it all and feeling like it isn’t worth it anymore… Talk to me! Because no matter what; EVERYONE IS WORTH IT.
You know when you smile and laugh and pretend to be the perfect “girl” all day… It really just makes you feel worse. Because you are pretending not only to be happy and fine, but pretending to be an entire different person than you are. At work I’m not the man I am… I have to be this girl named “brittany”… And it’s not worth it. It really isn’t. Because I’m not her… I’m me.