Good Enough

A Page from Julian's Notebook

You know there's this thing about scars. Not the scars you get from skinning your knee while playing basketball, but the kind you know you caused yourself. Why? Because every time you look at it you see that pain. The pain that made you have to do something about it. A pain so overwhelming you needed something physical to go with it. If it hurts up there in your head, then it should hurt somewhere you can point to and say "There. It hurts right there." 

It also gives you something to do. If your mind is destroying itself from the inside, and you're hurting yourself on the outside too, now at least you have somewhere you can fix it. Make yourself all better. Bandage yourself up with Neosporin and band aids until your pain slowly fades away.

Except it's never that easy, is it? You think you've fixed it, but pain is almost an addiction. A drug that takes your brain first, and makes your brain tell the rest of your body to do stupid things. I've done stupid things with my hands. On my legs. On my wrist. Stomach.

I don't regret it. Every time I see that little white line, I don't regret it. But I do remember. Remembering sucks. A lot. Remembering the pain and jumbled thoughts and emotions you had to go through to go to the extent of hurting yourself makes you think "what's wrong with me? This isn't normal."

I know it's bad. I know it's wrong. I know it might be doing more harm than good. I know this means I might have a serious deep rooted mental issue.

But sometimes I can't help it. I just want it to hurt somewhere real.

That's all I ask. For a pain that has a name, instead of the phantom one I think goes on in my head.

What's one cut in comparison to momentary relief? Nothing really. Not to me at least.

Ok ok I don't hurt myself but i was thinking and this just popped into my head and i needed to write it down and k thought it fit. Sorry. - M