Scars

Who am I? I'm just a normal 17-year-old girl, I'm just like you, I have my secrets, we all have secrets, but just maybe my secrets might be a little darker than yours. It all started when I was 15, I discovered that feeling when you pass a blade through your skin, when the blood starts coming out and you start to feel pain, but it is not a normal pain, it's a sweet pain, something that makes you forget everything else. I just felt it twice; there was no sense at doing it. I had always been a happy girl, I have a great family, I have friends, I'm in a good school, and everything seems perfect. It was till 16 when real pain began, everything started to go wrong. I started noticing how invisible I have ever been, nobody noticed me, I could die and nobody would ever notice I was gone. It is sad, isn't it? Feeling so alone that you even think of death as an option. One day I was so upset, I remember what I have done one year ago, maybe it could be a solution, and I grabbed a pair of scissors and started slicing them through my skin. I knew it wasn't a real solution for my problems, but it was to late, I couldn't stop. It was kind of relieving that feeling made me forget the pain in my head.

As time passed, the scissors turned into blades taken out of a sharpener, instead of doing it just once in a while it turned to be everyday. I cried alone, nobody knew, I was so afraid of someone finding out that I wasn't brave enough to talk about it with someone. It started getting worse, I knew those scars on my wrist just won't fade away, it was crazy but it had turned into an addiction. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't control it. Each time I did it, I felt guilty and each time it was deeper and deeper, I was afraid about what could happen, I mean what if one day I cut so dip I need stitches? What if I cut a vain? What would I say? It was like if everyday I needed to lie to everyone around me, it was so difficult hiding my arm, I used bracelets and long sleeves, it was weird, using long sleeves even when it was hot. Going to a pool or to the beach turned into just a memory. And the worst part is that I was alone.

I never knew why I even started. I was misunderstood and invisible. My friends constantly laugh at me and made jokes about me, they said they were just playing, but honestly, those "jokes" hurt, and they hurt so much. I was so scared, I cried every single day. I couldn't control it, I was just sad all the time. It was like if I was dead, only that I was still breathing. It was hard waking everyday still breathing and wishing I didn't, going to sleep every night wishing to never wake up again. You reach a point in life when dreaming that you die stops being a nightmare, and the real nightmare begins when you wake up to find out that you are alive. And you deal with so much pain that the only answer, the only solution is to harm yourself, maybe because you know you deserve it, maybe because it makes you forget about the emotional pain while you deal with the physical pain. You will never find out what the real reason is, the only thing you know and always will know is that once you start, there is no going back.

I forgot how to love, there was no reason on loving, nobody was worth it, not even myself, and why would you bother in loving someone when you know they will never love you. How could someone ever love me, I mean I don't even know how to love myself?

Will I feel this way my entire life? I hope not, I've never felt this way before, is worse than being sick. Feeling so alone, feeling isolated. Being tired of lying to everyone around you. You feel so afraid of what you can do to yourself, because it is not on you hands, it is out of control.

I wish with all my heart I could go back to the first time I did it, I'm not sure, maybe if I thought about it twice I wouldn't have done it, but that was the problem, I didn't thought about it, the pain was all over me and I wanted with all my heart to end it.

Time passed, some of my friends found out my little secret, the problem is they don't understand, No one understands! All they say is that you need to stop it, as if you didn't know it, the problem is they have no idea about how hard it is. Some of them are getting far; maybe they think you are crazy. They don't understand you; they never had and never will.

The nights are worse, all I have in my head are blades and cuts, I can't sleep, the nights are long, and I spend most of them crying and thinking how much I want all this to end.