I don’t exactly remember the first time I touched a blade to have a talk with it, because most of the times I chose to take use of it I was blacked out and lost.
Although I remember me in my young age , sitting in my old house of my hometown and just having a deep conversation with myself and my blade.
I wouldn’t look whether it was a blade or shards of glass; anything sharp would do honestly. I was not comprehending with my own decisions, all I could think of was pain.
Now one thing I completely deny is that you can’t decide who has been suffering more. If one girl has her arms full of scars that does never mean that another girl with just one scar hasn’t suffered more.
I hate the judgemental perceptions of humans, who suddenly become afraid of speaking to someone who is covered in scars.
I have had people come up to me and talk normally up untill I randomly pulled up my sleeves and they would just freeze and stare. When I would notice them staring, the majority are not able to ask about it.
Some people harm themselves for reasons they can’t change, or don’t find the strength to change. For a very long time I harmed myself and no one saw them because they were mine to keep; mine to see.
I also am scared of people who are that pathetic that they don’t understand why someone would choose to hurt themselves, because they have learnt to deal with their stress in a different way.
Now don’t think that I am glorifying self harm, because I have abandoned it for a year and a half. The last time I had a blade I was wearing red, and I was unable to tell wether it was bloodstains or just my dress.
After this long time I cut myself two more times and I got scared that I might not be able to stop. I am very strong, I had found methods to overcome my self harm by boxing, writing, and listening to music.
When you do something you enjoy, you become happy and you forget about the pain. You become happy. And happiness is all we long for, don’t we?
Now I’m here again and I have no blade, but my pain. This pain is cutting deep in me; more than a blade ever could. I’m upset for all the times I have encouraged others to love themselves and now I’m on the same stage, acting like a hypocrite.
I am thinking whether I should or should not, and I know what everyone will say… Don’t do it love, be your gorgeous self, you have been doing so well…
I am breaking in pieces and I am breaking everyone around me for being weak. I am a horrible person for making the ones I love suffer, because I can’t act all happy. I don’t want to pretend, I don’t want to hide.