Just something Im doing on tumblr.
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Re: Just something Im doing on tumblr.
Day Nine:
Have you ever taken pictures of your wounds? Discuss.
Yes. Do I do it to get attention and be all dramatic and crap? No. I did it once because Suzann (ex-girlfriend/current best friend) wanted to see them after I cut one day to see how bad it was. That was back when we were dating. That’s the only time I’ve done that and the only time I will. I don’t want to “show off my wounds” and blame them on someone else and I sure as hell don’t want to remember them or what caused me to do it.
Day Ten:
How do you feel about your scars?
I hate them. I hate them so much. They’re awful memories cloaking themselves as meaningless scars, and maybe they can be seen as meaningless scars. But not to me. Every time I look at them or think about them, memories wash over me and change who I am, who I will be, and who I want to be. I can’t get rid of them. Even after the old scars fade, I make new ones with a pretty little razor. I carve words and stories into my skin without writing a single thing but long, bloody lines. When all of my scars have faded and I’m “better,” I still won’t be better. Memories don’t fade. Those memories are illnesses without a cure, without something to make them disappear forever. They have a treatment, but that only leads to more and more scars. They don’t go away and I loathe them with all my being.
Day Eleven:
Strangest place (school, park, etc) you’ve ever injured yourself?
Strangest place? I’m not sure. Aren’t they all strange places to “do the deed”? Is it not equally strange to cut at a park as it is to cut in your room? I have never done it in an abstract place. I hold it in and let it build up before I can grab my weapon. I give myself psychiatric attention in the privacy of my own home. Locked in a bathroom. Locked in my room. Somewhere I can be long enough to feed my addiction before questions are asked. I’ve reopened wounds many, many, many times purposely in lots of places. But it’s still not as satisfying as creating a fresh cut with a fresh blade.
Have you ever taken pictures of your wounds? Discuss.
Yes. Do I do it to get attention and be all dramatic and crap? No. I did it once because Suzann (ex-girlfriend/current best friend) wanted to see them after I cut one day to see how bad it was. That was back when we were dating. That’s the only time I’ve done that and the only time I will. I don’t want to “show off my wounds” and blame them on someone else and I sure as hell don’t want to remember them or what caused me to do it.
Day Ten:
How do you feel about your scars?
I hate them. I hate them so much. They’re awful memories cloaking themselves as meaningless scars, and maybe they can be seen as meaningless scars. But not to me. Every time I look at them or think about them, memories wash over me and change who I am, who I will be, and who I want to be. I can’t get rid of them. Even after the old scars fade, I make new ones with a pretty little razor. I carve words and stories into my skin without writing a single thing but long, bloody lines. When all of my scars have faded and I’m “better,” I still won’t be better. Memories don’t fade. Those memories are illnesses without a cure, without something to make them disappear forever. They have a treatment, but that only leads to more and more scars. They don’t go away and I loathe them with all my being.
Day Eleven:
Strangest place (school, park, etc) you’ve ever injured yourself?
Strangest place? I’m not sure. Aren’t they all strange places to “do the deed”? Is it not equally strange to cut at a park as it is to cut in your room? I have never done it in an abstract place. I hold it in and let it build up before I can grab my weapon. I give myself psychiatric attention in the privacy of my own home. Locked in a bathroom. Locked in my room. Somewhere I can be long enough to feed my addiction before questions are asked. I’ve reopened wounds many, many, many times purposely in lots of places. But it’s still not as satisfying as creating a fresh cut with a fresh blade.
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