this might be irrelevant to everyone and innapropirate for this blog

but maybe someone will relate and not feel like the only one being looked at.

I really wish people wouldn’t stare at my scars everywhere I go.

Your scars don’t show weakness.

They show strength, that after everything you went through you made it out.

Your scars tell a story. Your scars show healing and hope.

It’s really scary when someone cuts themselves. Honestly, people really don’t understand what its like unless you’ve been there. For you to be so angry and upset that you can take it out on yourself. That you can cut yourself open.
People take it so lightly when really its horrifying. It shows how much someone hates themselves. I can’t put in to words the overwhelming feeling there is.

When I cut two weeks ago for the first time in 6 months, it was really bad.  I was usually a surface scratcher. But not this time. The scary part about it is, I didn’t even realize how bad it was. I’ve never cut that deep before and to me while I was doing it, I couldn’t do it enough. I’d go over the same spots again and again.

I woke up the next day with barely any memory of what happened. I believe what I went through that night was so traumatizing that my mind blocked it out.

I was in so much pain I could barely walk and i surely could not sit down like normal or cross my legs.

I literally tore myself apart, my legs were cut wide open, to the point that when I slept there would be blood on the sheets. And when I got put in the hospital I got sat down by the doctor and he told me if I would have cut in the wrong place I could have killed myself with how deep the wounds were. It took almost a week and a half to get them to the point where they would stop busting open and bleeding again.

Now 2 weeks out of it, and starting to feel a lot better. I look at my legs and arms that are still healing, and I realize just how much they are going to scar.

People stare at me when I go out because I look like someone tore me apart. I look psychotic. and that night, I really was. 

It sucks because while I was looking for jobs today I had to wear long sleeves and pants so I wouldn’t be judged. I don’t want people to judge me and think I’m not strong because I am strong to have made it through the horrible shit I’ve pushed myself through, even if I did fall along the way.

And now the scars that I’m going to have are going to be so noticeable that I feel like I will be judged forever. On my pale skin they look purple. It’s repulsive and I just wish people would see how serious of an issue self harm is. 

That I could have died that night from it. That’s a really scary thing, and a very serious thing that needs more attention.

Because I didn’t realize how bad I was until someone told me.

inbox is open for anyone that needs it. xx