Keeping me close won’t help, it will just ruin me more, and don’t you see that. Keeping me on a chain just hurts me even more, because not only have I let myself down but I have let you down.
My cuts were all healed. My scars there, but fading over time. I thought I left it behind me, thought I was getting better, getting stronger. Thought I finally blocking out the all that drives me down into the monsters that I carry around in my mind. But I guess now that I look down at my wrist I know I have lost a never ending battle. A battle that I will be fighting till the day I die.
But it is hard to fight a battle when everyone sees the weak points, and make them known to the world. Don’t they understand that short sleeves are a punishment more than a truth? That having the door locked unlocked, closed, or open won’t change a thing. That I have worked out the kinks in this addiction. That I don’t sleep because I am scared of what I may dream of, but staying awake sitting in bed at 2am is still a living nightmare. That no matter what I do somehow I manage to make myself to believe that everyone hates me, and I am just hopeless to all the things going on in my head.
But no, you have no idea. You don’t truly try to understand, me cutting has nothing to do with you, but everything to do with what I go through mentally in my head, and how it’s nice to heal physically when you’re unable to heal mentally. But you can’t seem to understand that. So please stop trying to put me under a microscope for examine, because you will have no idea what you’re in for. Like really what are you looking for? All I know is you will be disappointed when you find out that what I have been trying to tell you is the truth. It is a copping mechanism.
But now I shall go and start counting the days over again from one. Two. Three. Four and so on. Until I can say that no matter if the thought enters my mind I can fight it. This was just a relapse; everyone with an addiction has them. It was going to happen to me some time, but now that it has I know that I will be okay and I will keep moving forward without looking back to much. But yes relapse happens, but it’s just another out of many stepping stones to come in my life. I am only 16 anyways; I still have a lot of life to live.