So. This is something I honestly never thought I’d write about. It’s a part of my life I’ve supressed and just never really wanted to put out into the public eye. Yet here I am, confessing to all that read this, that I used to self harm. I know, me, of all people. Intelligent, determined, and strong. But that’s not who I always was, I used to be weak and depressed, but I hid behind a mask.
It’s honestly amazing was masks can do, they can make you see normal when in reality you’re anything but. When in reality you’re dead or dying inside. I could’t feel anything, so I caused myself pain because at least then I could feel something. I hid it, it wasn’t a cry for attention, it was something that reminded me I was alive.
To this day I still have a bloody sheet hidden in my closet. I’m not writing this to say I’m proud of what I did. I’m writing this to say that living behind a mask isn’t living. Thankfully I had a friend that helped me begin to live again, and I truly began to live. I allowed myself to feel joy and love again. My circumstances weren’t what was holding me back, I was. I cut myself off from all joy.
I still carry the scars on my hips from my years of self hatred, and for quite awhile I despised them. They were reminders that I was weak. But as I discovered my strength and my resilience they became road markers on my journey of life, those scars are a starting point in my life. From those scars, from that deeply rooted pain, I began to live in a way that I never had before that point.
I write all of this to say, if you are self harming in anyway, tell some body. Tell someone that loves you and cares for you. Tell your parents or siblings and don’t resist help. The life you’re living isn’t all that life has to offer. There is so much beauty in the world and so much beauty inside of you, embrace that. If you don’t feel like you can confide in someone you know really well at this point in your journey, feel free to contact me. I’ve been there. You’re loved, I promise.