ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ

XLVI

I used to feel happy and content being in my dark state. It felt bad because of how good I felt. Cutting myself used to the only place that could bring me the feeling of home.

The numbness, the pain was once my best friend. I didn't mean to do any of those but it was once the only thing that could bring me peace. The only time when I felt lighter, free from all the thoughts and emotions tormenting me.

All things comes with a price and consequences so did my depression. I was labelled many things let me tell you none were nice. Freak was something I was accustomed to.

To hide those cuts, especially my skin from others. The proximity of people around me used to make me tense and freak out the constant flinches didn't help either. It took time for me to adjust. It decreased as time passed but still there like a default setting.

The girls with Nice bodies, no scars, no marks on their body. Having beautiful skin is more than that being comfortable and beautiful in your own skin.

I was envious of those girls.

The pale fading marks on my thighs, some on my arms and wrists display my struggles, the story of my life that needs to be completely destroyed from my memory.

Being Beautiful inside out can be natural or be practiced. I was confident, everything that happened and whatever happened after the Nathan situation it broked me beyond repair.

I tried to love myself, I couldn't. Those faded marks always remind me of what happened. I could take that as a positive factor and learn.

But tell me what's so positive about almost being raped. What's so positive about being assaulted not only physically but mentally.

I was lucky, then what about those who were not lucky enough to be saved. You can be strong and face it, be brave and put a mask in front of others. Standing for other people who went through the same.

You can overcome it but that trauma always will burn somewhere in your heart, body leaving permanent damage. It's something you can't fix just learn to live with it until you get used to it.

Some people can joke about their traumas Dark humor they say. It's their defense mechanism and mine is shutting people out and distancing myself from them. I can't deal with emotions, it's hard for me to trust someone again. 

If a person loses their leg during an accident they still find a way to continue their life. That one leg can build a strong foundation which was not built when they had two legs. It will be difficult at first frustrating, annoying wanting to give up after succeeding, having rehabilitation treatments, the struggles, the hard work, the efforts and willpower of not giving up is what makes the foundation stronger than before. 

This can't happen when you already lost hope, you have no desire to fight. 

I sighed looking at my outer thighs trailing the marks on my inner thighs. It took so much confidence for me to not cover those or my skin. I wear skirts most of the time because it's comfortable. I tried not to worry about what others might think. That's what I have been doing for years now. Some people just don't understand how their one comment or one word can affect a person even a little thing. It's not about one being sensitive.