so when I was in seventh grade I was stupid and sad that the boy I liked didn't like me back (he liked my best friend which made it even worse) so I cut myself!!! it started out as scratches but then I learned how to break razors and they got pretty decent.
eventually I got over that boy but by then a habit had formed. I actually got caught and my parents dealt with it in the worst way possible. they grounded me, threatened me, sent me to a therapist and didn't let me see my friends for a month. basically they left me to stew with my own thoughts for a month and all I could think about was how much I wanted to die or at least just cease to exist.
eighth grade started and I was still cutting but less often and mostly only on my hips. I don't remember a lot of that year self harm wise because that was my calmest year.
ninth grade was when shit really hit the fan. I had an Instagram page devoted to my cutting and depression. I followed other pages and these people had way deeper and better cuts than me. it inspired me in all the wrong ways.
I felt like shit all the time. I cut up my whole arm and gave myself two very deep cuts that have ruined my life and made me extremely insecure. I had cuts all over both of my forearms and I loved it.
until they scarred. they were ugly and I regretted it.
so now my arms are covered and scars and now onto the reason why I made this:
I'm 9 months and 3 weeks clean and I never want to cut again. I have no desire to anymore. mentally I'm over it. physically I'm not.
I wear short sleeves to school sometimes and someone will point them out and it's always the question "what are those scratches on your arm?" and I don't know what to say. I can't control other people and as soon as that question comes out it feels as if everyone in the room is listening and judging me.
if I could have any wish in the world come true I would wish that these god awful scars would go away.
I can't wait until I'm old enough to get tattoos so I can cover these bad memories with art.
