I haven't cut myself in about 6 months now. Last time I did it was out of rage. I punched the mirror in my bathroom and grabbed a rigged piece…
This time is a little different. My chest hurts and I feel like I can't breath. My mind keeps telling me if I just let it out a little, I'll be ok. But I know it won't. I've had the urge to cut for a few days now. But have resisted.
I know I am beyond that now. I don't have to do it anymore. It won't fix anything. Sure I might "feel" better, but eventually my fiance will see. Eventually my family will see. I can't stand seeing them looking at me with disgust.
I have deep scars. My arms are covered in my past. And I WILL not add on to the scars! I CAN do this. I can do this…. I keep trying to tell myself. I just want someone to understand there is no shame in my scars.
People who see my arms ask what happened…"You really have to ask?" It's kind of obvious. But they make me stronger, the scars.
I remember when I went to try on wedding dresses with my friend Tory. The women helping me out recommened that I purchase the tattoo make-up kit to cover up all my tattoos and scars. My family doesn't give two sh*ts about my tattoos, they cover small scars. Covering them won't make me anymore pretty on the "Big day". Sometimes they, my scars, make me feel prettier. They tell a story, a tragic story. And the fact that they didn't kill me, no matter how deep I would go, I'm still here today. That makes them a beautiful mystery.
I'm sure this doesn't make sense. Sometimes my brain works that way. Sorry….