I found a new way to hurt myself that leaves no marks after a few hours.
I do it before I go to sleep so it's gone in the morning.
I'm proud of myself.
No one will know or wonder why I have marks on my arms because they aren't there, but I get the satisfaction of hurting myself.
Now my depression is almost real.
Almost at societies standards.
The suicidal thoughts aren't real until I cut my arms.
The numb exhaustion isn't real until I cut my arms.
My therapists declaration isn't enough until I have scars on my arms.
Being on antidepressants isn't enough until the smooth skin on my arms is smooth no longer.
