Leaving friends & acquaintances can always be hurtful, But not today. It was a huge step I was willing to take for myself. I’ve always wanted to be that nice, easy going, funny person everyone can admire and wish they could be just like him/her. Trying to always have a smile, Not showing any emotions when being made fun of, But just giving kindness no matter what they do to you. Having to hide the real me was not only frustrating, But depressing. Trying to get away from the people who make me feel like complete shit about myself, Was and is very hard. Knowing how they hurt me, Ignoring it, Until I began to hate myself, my life, and my existance. It had to stop here and now. I wanted to yell at them to stop and realize what I’m going through, But they just take one look at me and think “You?, Being serious, Don’t make me laugh.” It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I warned them, all of them to not treat me like unless garbage that they can throw away under 5 seconds. I was getting to the point where cutting was an option. I’ve never enjoyed seeing blood, But don’t get me wrong I don’t have Hemophobia. Seeing the cuts always give me that smile and bliss, Why?, I’m not sure just knowing that I replaced the torturing from people with cuts on my arm made me happy and wanna cry all day and night. People around me started noticing long sleeves in hot weather. I’m the type who can’t stand the heat and has to wear a tank top. Soon my Mother found out, I was in the car, Waiting for my Mom while she went into the libary, It got really hot in the car, So of course I take off the sweater revealing the long, purple, multiple scars. Mom opens door, sits down, puts in key, turns and BAM stares directly at my arm. She reaches for my arm and grabs, But than I start panicking. I pull my hand away and quickly put on my sweater saying “I fell off my bike!” She began to rant about how those don’t look like bike scratches, But I assured her it was the bike. My Mom quickly picked up her bounding shattered heart and begin to talk about depression. I thought to myself, “Am I really depressed…? or maybe just angry that I don’t have the perfect job, friends & family, body,…etc, that I imaged as a kid.” Cutting never solved my problems, Did it help? In a way it did. I’m not always happy and fully knowing why I hurted myself, But what I do understand is how it made me feel happy and bitter.
D.B.D
2 comments
Wow. So much said and expressed that it’s difficult for me to respond, but I hear you. It sounds like your mother doesn’t know how to show love or caring. If I had a child who had cuts all over their arms, my heart would reach out to care, even if I didn’t know the right thing to do.
Thank You. Yeah being a mother is very complex, I’m not mad at my mom she can be helpful somtimes….But I know she goes through alot of stress from my dad, I should be happy she atleast talks to me. Thank you for reading and commenting, Writing is’nt my best subject, But i would rather write than show my hateful emotions to people around me. BTW you sound like a mother alot of these people on here need.
D.B.D