#firtscut

I remember as if it was yesterday. Emptiness and at the same time pain. Cold covers the whole body. I am paralysed. I cannot feel a thing. Tears unstoppably run down my face. There is darkness around me. I feel fabric on my face. I hear music in the back. I scream. Still crying. All I feel is unstoppable pain, which origin I do not know. I feel alone. There is no one around me. Nobody knows where I am. Nobody knows that I am lock inside my room. No one knows I am crying my lungs out inside of my own closet. No on hears my scremas.                Numbness. I know you. I have felt you before. I cannot resist you anymore. You have me. She leads me. She covers me completely. I want this to end. I cannot take this anymore. End this. This is not pain anymore.

I take scissors from my desk. They are open. I press them against my skin. There. I press harder, still nothing. I press even harder and there it is. My first cut. I feel pain. Finally. I see blood. It is slowly coming on the surface. I feel. I feel pins and needles and burning pain. I stopped screaming. Again. I press scissors on my skin. Again, and again. I feel. I just feel. My heartbeat is lower.  I am starting to calm down. I feel like a heroin addict. Now I am just watching my cuts. I am just watching little drops of blood sliding on my arm. I am just watching and waiting for blood to set. First five cuts were made. I let out my numbness. I am calm now.

It is time to wash my hand. It burns but I feel unbeatable. I fell asleep. Morning is different. I get up easier. Nobody knows about my secret. This is my cure. Day goes by and poison gathers. When I am home, there is time to let it out again. What a feeling! This is my shot! This is my cure! Blood runs and with it my emptiness. It is gone! Deep down I know she will came back. Because tomorrow is a new day and I don’t want to start it.

I do not count my scars anymore. Many of them rest on my hand. It became my drug. I feel my body craving for the pain. Any stress is good enough reason to lock myself in the room. However, it is not the same anymore. I feel pain although I know I should stop. It was my crutch and now I don’t need it anymore. Now I feel. Even though it’s sadness, I feel it.

I still carry you. I still feel you. I thought you left me. I forgot. That is all.

I never told you my story. At least not in the right way. My scars were not revelled, because I am still scared. Of judgments of course. I need to tell you my story. Without any apologies or excuses. I think it is time for you to hear it. For my sake and my peace. It is time to step in to the light.