Why me?

Chapter 8

Why me? Why am I the one who has to endure this pain, this torture? I didn't ask for it. And some people are struggling to realize that what I'm going through isn't an act, a cry for attention. If it was, why would I keep my scars covered up from the world? Why would I only break down at night, when everyone is asleep and can't hear my cries. Why would I be telling my friends to stay strong, that it will be ok? It's because I don't want them to end up where I am right now. It's not healthy. And it's not fair anymore.

So as I sit here alone in my room, the blade to my wrist. I think about something.

What is the reason I've held on for, for so long?

Is it my friends? My family?

Yes, they are part of the reason. But the one thing that kept me clean for over a month was the feeling of self achievement. Wanting to feel proud of myself for once, like I've finally done something right.

Do I really want to be doing this to myself? After so long?

No. No I don't. I want to feel achievement. I want to feel proud of myself. I want to do something right for once.

So I take the blade away from my wrist. My stomach. My hips and my thighs. I'm stronger than I think I am. I can get through it.

I will get through it.

One month, fifteen days clean. Over one month without cutting myself. The longest I've ever gone without harming myself.

Some of you may think 'please, one month? That's not long!' But to me, it feels like its been years. And everyday the thought of breaking passes through my mind. Every single freaking day. And it's hard.

And every single scar that's left, is a reminder of what I have done to myself. Of what I had become. And I'm ashamed of it. Some even told me that I was just doing it for attention and to just grow up.

But those scars that are left, remind me everyday that that's what I can do. And worse. They're tormenting me, telling me to just give in and make some more scars. It's an endless cycle that goes round and round. And you have to be god-damn strong to break it.