THE BUTTERFLY PROJECT

submit here!   THE RULES:
1. when you feel like you want to cut, take a marker or pen and draw a butterfly wherever the self-harm occurs.
2. name the butterfly after a loved one, or someone that really wants you to get better.
3. NO scrubbing the butterfly off.
4. if you cut before the butterfly is gone, it dies. if you don't cut, it lives.
5. another person may draw them on you. these butterflies are extra special. take good care of them.
6. even if you don’t cut, feel free to draw a butterfly anyways, to show your support.

this is an anoymously-run blog for you. i want to hear your stories. i want to see pictures of your butterflies. please don't be ashamed to share anything. we are all human, and i'm only here to serve.

all the posts on this blog are submissions from followers who have enough courage to share their lives and their stories with you. i ask that this remain a judgement-free zone. thank you all very much. stay strong.

with hope, momma butterfly })i({

Hi, my name is Dalia and I’m 20 years old. I have been self harming for about 5 years. During those 5 years I’ve only ever stopped a couple times for very brief moments. I’ve been clean for about a month most two I can’t help but feel like I want to. I don’t have much understanding friends. I don’t know what to do. Any suggestions on quieting this loud demand? Thank you in advance

#submission 

My name is Chandra I am 15 and I and decided to share my story. My childhood was relatively happy. Then at age 0 my family moved and everything went down hill from there. I found out that my mother not only smokes but is an alcoholic. Now my father also smokes. My world has changed and I was only in 5th grade and I was I child whose family neglected her. then my 6th grade year I became anorexic and to this day I still battle with it. Then I finally entered middle school then I found out what being bullied felt like. Then at home my older sister she abused me treated me like I was her personal slave. 8th grade came and I was done I took up scratching myself when I felt down I didn’t eat ever. 9th grade was worse I finally grabbed a blade and made several cuts on my thighs I carved LIVE into my knee. I carved my ex bfs name into my wrist. I also wanted to die. Now My 10th grade year the final chapter I am the new kid the one who people will end up making fun of at some point. Thanks for listening

#submission  #butterfly project 
Well, I’m happy because it’s been months I don’t cut, and seeing my scars fading away makes really happy.
For many years I always thought that I could send my sadness away by hurting myself. Even when I didn’t cut myself, I always tried to find a way to punish myself for the things I did. I hated myself so much that I really thought about disappearing. I’m selfish and a bad daughter. I couldn’t build a friendship or keep it. I always scared people away. I’m not a beautiful person at all. People hurt me so much that I ended up hurting them too. And everyone who entered into my life ended up being hurt by me. I ruined everything I touched. Someone once told me that I’m not an human being. And I guess she was right, maybe I’m not human, maybe I’m just a ghost who can be seen.
But I don’t want that, I don’t want to be a ghost. I want to live. I don’t want to be forgotten. I want people to remember me and smile while doing it. I want to do something for the world and for myself too. I want have friends, go to places I never been before, I want make my mother feel proud of me and mostly I want feel proud of myself.
I already drew 6 butterflies and I found friends who really help a lot. They don’t know about me, but they always try to cheer me up when I’m down. I have changed a lot on these few months. I smile more, and I try to go out more, I even went to a night club and kissed a girl =)). I met new people and discovered new things to do. I started to make bracelets to my friends and save money to go to Paris with my friends (we are planning going there after college)
But I’m still sad. And sometimes I get so sad that my all body hurts. And when I feel this way I cry, I try to put all out and then I read a book or watch funny vines, but I don’t think about hurting myself anymore.
And maybe if one day i disappear for real, probably no one will miss me, but I will miss so many things. Because now when I look back at my life, I see that there were times I had happy moments…and I will miss those moments so much. Even the people who entered in my life and then left me without a single word, I will miss them, a lot, because they brought me so many joy and happiness. I will miss the sunrise I see every morning through my room window. I will miss my cats, and my mother and her warm hug, that I hope feel it again.
stay strong :*
[sorry my bad English :)]

Well, I’m happy because it’s been months I don’t cut, and seeing my scars fading away makes really happy.

For many years I always thought that I could send my sadness away by hurting myself. Even when I didn’t cut myself, I always tried to find a way to punish myself for the things I did. I hated myself so much that I really thought about disappearing. I’m selfish and a bad daughter. I couldn’t build a friendship or keep it. I always scared people away. I’m not a beautiful person at all. People hurt me so much that I ended up hurting them too. And everyone who entered into my life ended up being hurt by me. I ruined everything I touched. Someone once told me that I’m not an human being. And I guess she was right, maybe I’m not human, maybe I’m just a ghost who can be seen.

But I don’t want that, I don’t want to be a ghost. I want to live. I don’t want to be forgotten. I want people to remember me and smile while doing it. I want to do something for the world and for myself too. I want have friends, go to places I never been before, I want make my mother feel proud of me and mostly I want feel proud of myself.

I already drew 6 butterflies and I found friends who really help a lot. They don’t know about me, but they always try to cheer me up when I’m down. I have changed a lot on these few months. I smile more, and I try to go out more, I even went to a night club and kissed a girl =)). I met new people and discovered new things to do. I started to make bracelets to my friends and save money to go to Paris with my friends (we are planning going there after college)

But I’m still sad. And sometimes I get so sad that my all body hurts. And when I feel this way I cry, I try to put all out and then I read a book or watch funny vines, but I don’t think about hurting myself anymore.

And maybe if one day i disappear for real, probably no one will miss me, but I will miss so many things. Because now when I look back at my life, I see that there were times I had happy moments…and I will miss those moments so much. Even the people who entered in my life and then left me without a single word, I will miss them, a lot, because they brought me so many joy and happiness. I will miss the sunrise I see every morning through my room window. I will miss my cats, and my mother and her warm hug, that I hope feel it again.

stay strong :*

[sorry my bad English :)]

#submission  #butterfly project 

Hi. I’m Shawna. This is my story.

When I was 10, my mom had asked my brother and I what we would think if we moved back to where she grew up, which was four hours away. My parents had gotten a divorce three and a half years ago, when I was seven. Of course, this was the first time that it had been brought up in our family of three that now lived in a nice little town house on top of the hill. This was in early June. Before I knew it, it was August, and we were packing up all of our things and loading them into a brightly colored yellow Penske truck parked outside of our little blue house with the broken porch swing. I remember getting into my mother’s truck and waving goodbye for the last time to my small pink room (I used to love the color, don’t judge.) I remember walking up out stairs, sitting on the roof for the final time, and remembering everything that I would never forget, always remember. I was numb for most of the drive to our new house that my mother’s parents had bought. It was a nice, split level, 4 bed, 2 bath house with a double garage and three acres. When we arrived, my grandfather had hired a few men to help us move out furniture and larger items into the new home. It had only been a week or so when school started here at mom’s hometown. I was going into fifth grade. Keep in mind, my old school was only a 1A and my current school, this very same one, is a 4, almost 5A. I had been one of the most well-known and most popular kids at my school, everybody seemed to like me well enough, and I still liked myself. Then, I was pulled from there and drug to a new school where I didn’t know the slightest soul. There were about 23 kids or so in my fifth grade homeroom, about 170 in the whole grade. I had managed to get the meanest and most horrid teacher. Wonderful. I didn’t really want to talk anyone and no one really seemed interested in me either, so it all worked out. Then this boy started talking to me, his name was Ahren. He’s been a life-saver, literally. But, he and I would always talk to each other and I had been cutting for about three months by now, and finally, just after we got back from Christmas break, I had shown him my scars. My arms were laced with them, but most now are faded as I have moved to my left thigh for the most part. He asked me what had happened, and I hesitated to tell him the truth and really if he wanted to know. So, I knew I’d feel even worse if I lied to the poor kid about it. So I told him the truth. All of it. He made me promise to never do this to myself again, and, I told him I wouldn’t, knowing that I had lied to him in the end. It was just another empty, hollow, fake promise that I couldn’t keep to anyone. As the year finished up, it just kinda blurred by, I got good grades and everything, wasn’t bullied or anything either. Sixth grade was also the same way, then on May 16, 2013, there was one girl that had apparently found out that I cut, and she made fun of me and bullied me for it. So I punched her. In the face. Got my little smartass into ISS for the last day of school. That was fun, met a kid called Max. School ended and summer began. Then on the twenty third, I was wearing jeans to cover my scars, and a short sleeved shirt. I was at the park, with one of my few friends, and Ahren had seen me there and asked if he could talk to me for a minute. I shrugged and told him sure, he pulled me to the side and asked me out. So that happened. I’ve been with him ever since, he’s been with me through everything, I even made a few more friends in seventh grade, and eventually told my story to a few of them as well. One of them told me that she cut too. She told me about the butterfly project. I looked it up and read the rules and a bunch of other’s stories who also told about their cutting and how the butterfly project has helped them. I have been doing it for months now, every time a butterfly flies away, I draw a new one. Or two. Or several. How many have died you ask? Only 2. And now, I’ve been 44 days clean. September fifth will be my fiftieth day clean. And then October 26th? Yeah, that’s gonna be one hundred. And I’m gonna make it to one hundred. I will. I’ve told another few friends that have cut about the butterfly project, and they say it’s a distraction from the constant urge to cut, they roll up the long loose sleeves to tear into that precious arm once again, but see the butterfly and the name instead of the long, white scars. It’s really been a great thing for me. Thank you for taking the time out of your day and reading my story to you all about how the butterfly project has helped me. Thank you so much to whoever invented the Butterfly project as well, you’ve saved so many people from not only self-harm and cutting again, but death itself. Me included. I’m thirteen years old now. It’s been officially one night since I had that blade in my hand once again, but my most recent butterfly had been drawn last night as well. July 16th 2014 is my last cut date. And I plan it to be my one, two, 10 plus years clean. Thanks.

#submission  #butterfly project 

I am so proud of everyone out there fighting this. It’s not easy it really isn’t and I know that more than anyone. Keep going! We’re going to be okay. 

#submission  #butterfly project 

I used to cut, I started cutting in 2012 because of bullying, but thanks to friend support and te butterfly project I got clean, but I broke being clean after a year but now I’ve been 5 months clean thanks to the butterfly project for giving me hope that I can win my fight against selfharm.

#submission  #butterfly project 

Okay so I’ve read all these stories and what people go through. It’s amazing how strong people are I know many people feel weak and like they are giving up but you aren’t you are beautiful and strong, look at yourself now and think of what you are doing right now you are trying to stop that right there makes you strong. Please keep trying. I know what it’s like and I’m stopping I believe you can too.

#butterfly project  #submission 
Today I finally got my butterfly tattoo, this is the start of a new beginning. 

Today I finally got my butterfly tattoo, this is the start of a new beginning. 

#submission  #butterfly project 
I’ve been strong for so long…
  • I’ve been clean since around May, and I didn’t need the butterflies to help remind me that I needed to recover, I was fine… I went to my doctor today, for my depression and anxiety, and first, as always, I talked to my therapist Fred. I finally trusted him with some very important personal things that I never thought I’d tell a professional, but he’s become like a friend to me, so I told him… I waited as he talked to the doctor, and the doctor called my mother and I back… we sat down and she asked what I would like for treatment, I replied “I don’t know.” she looked angry at that, and she threw my file down onto the desk and used some of the things I had told Fred but in a different way… “Well, if you don’t know ‘whats the use?’ you’re just ‘Wasting everyones time here’” It hurt so bad as she kept on and on, every word I had told Fred coming out of her mouth, and finally she said “You’re just wasting our time if you ‘don’t know’” I wouldn’t look at her, but I refused to break and cry infront of her, she made me feel like a knife was in my chest it really hurt, I just kept replying to everything she asked with “I don’t know”s and shrugs, and finally she said I could go outside she needed to talk to my mum. I went to my parents van head held high and sat in silence with my dad for a few minutes before he asked how it went, I broke… I couldn’t tell him because I was crying so much, and I couldn’t breathe… Everything that I thought I had escaped came flooding back to me… I thought I was okay but I’m not. I’ve been talking to my friends, even though we only talk through skype and facebook because they live thousands of miles away, and I told them what had happened and I felt like breaking, and they all went to get something at the same time and came back with butterflies on their arms. and told me its okay and they’re here for me… So, now I have six wonderful butterflies up my arm… and I’m happy I have them. 
#submission  #butterfly project 
My story

Hi!
I’m sorry if I make mistakes, but do not know English well enough to write myself and explain my letter by online translator.
I’m Julia, I’m 15 years old. I have a happy family, which has no problems. I’ve always been a good student. In elementary school a few people sometimes called me “nerd”, but did not bother me because I knew it was just a joke. I had a friend in class and friend. Then he went to other schools. I got into the best school in the country. I did not know anyone there. I made friends with a girl who seemed very nice. In time, it was more and more science. Not coping. I had to give up a lot of extra classes. But the assessment is still not satisfactory. The girl I made friends turned out to be two-faced. All the time invented rumors about me. Lied to many people. Only I knew the truth, so he liked it all. I”m shy and I’m fine with one friend. However, when this false left me, I was completely alone. I was sad and slowly tended to fall into depression. With time, thoughts of suicide. One day I was doing something at my desk. I opened the drawer and saw a pack razors. I was then alone in the house. I found that I can try. I took a razor blade from the razor and did wound. It was not pleasant, she did not understand why people do it. However, the next day I did the same thing. I cut left hip in a place that was covered by panties. But it was not enough for me. I left outside the “safe area”. In PE, I started to dress up in the toilet, that the girls in my class could not see the scars. I was happy when I saw blood pouring down my leg. I took it on my hands and smeared all over the body. Once I found on the internet for hotel scars some girl. It was stupid for me. Cut out for me was something intimate. I have never shared a photo of their scars on the Internet. However, I began to see different pictures of this kind. One day I found a picture of legs, which were covered in drawings. Underneath was the description “My therapist told me drew nice things in places that I’d like to cut.” First struck me as funny, but then I started to search for information about it. So I came to “The Butterfly Project”. It is still hard for me, but slowly cease to be cut. I believe that this can be also others. Fingers crossed!

Julia

needing help

i thought i had survived this whole self harm, self-esteem problem. few months ago, i stopped cutting, and i thought that i could finally live happily and normal again. No more unhappy me, no more depressed and unconfident me. I held my head high and started to gain confidence. I thought that no one could ever make me unhappy ever again, and that no ones’ words could hurt me again. Until now. 

I just sunk back into the old me. I have lost interest in everything, and I just can’t seem to get the picture of a blade out of my head. I find myself so damn worthless. It’s summer holidays, and I have to study my ass off, because of my entrance exams to college. I hate myself for being so damn stupid. why couldn’t i have been smarter? why couldn’t i worked harder last year so i don’t have to work so hard now? And thats not the only thats stressing me out. My dad decided to change his will and give all of his money and properties to charity, not leaving anything for the family. He wants us to work from scratch, from nothing- like he did. 

I’m scared. What if something happens, and since we will not receive anything from the will and I will have to drop out of college because I have not enough money to pay for the fees. And that im not smart enough to have scholarships?

Why am i so god damn stupid? Why am I so dumb? Why do i have to be born this way? Short and ugly? Why do people hate me so much? Call me stupid, but i really don’t want to live anymore. I can’t imagine a world with me inside. I don’t want to continue living being a failure. 

And it really sucks feeling that way. 

i just recently turned 12. i started self harming around christmas vacation time. i have a friend who checks my wrists daily to see if i had been cutting. one day me and two of my friends had been called up to the counselor. someone had told about out cutting. the counselors told our parents and yeah. my friend (the one that checks my wrists) had told me that she cared about me that day. it meant a lot to me. i tried out butterflies a while ago but they always ended up dying. now i have been clean for over a month. i still have urges to cut (a lot) but i keep myself from it. stay strong people. ily

For my friend Mattie, who is away from home and having a hard time.

For my friend Mattie, who is away from home and having a hard time.

#submission  #butterfly project