I hardly EVER talk about my history with self harm. Like, EVER EVER. It’s such a banned subject in my mind I can hardly think about it with out cringing. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve done it. There was a period of time where I absolutely hated people who harmed themselves. I never outwardly exposed someone about their scars but the thoughts in my head are enough to make me hate myself.
It’s always been a touchy subject for me because no one else knows what I went through with each scar. I realize now that it doesn’t matter the situation. If I was drunk or whatever the case. I still did it and I always feel the urge to do it again. I always have those thoughts in the back of my mind. The little whispers urging for me to do it.
no one will notice
just one little cut
I do my best to ignore them and of course I never outwardly speak of the little dark corner in my brain to friends, family, or lovers anymore. I used to but I just can’t anymore. I can’t take the sympathy and the false sincerity and kindness. I don’t want people to be scared to hurt my feelings or feel like they have to tip toe around me so I won’t freak out. I don’t need friends or lovers that are scared to leave me and try to make sure I’m sane enough until the next person comes along. I need friends and lovers to be here because they truly care and aren’t afraid to say what they feel.
But it creates this space in a relationship doesn’t it? Because people won’t know why I’m freaking out or why I can’t seem to do anything but lay in bed and cry for long periods of time. They don’t understand why I’m acting different. I always tell them, “I’ll be okay. This sadness goes away you just have to let me be for a bit. Whether it’s a few hours or a few days, just let the feeling pass through and I’ll be fine.”
They don’t know it’s actually this urge to have my life end at each beating second but I get through it. I always do. I just tell myself to breathe and each breath I take without harming myself is a victory.
All I know at this point of my life is I’m no better than the people who still harm themselves. I will always be in the same pool as them. I’ll always be battling the same things they’re going through. I can’t even say it gets better. I just know that I’m still alive and maybe that won’t be enough sometimes but those moments pass and I carry on.