The Hurt | Teen Ink

The Hurt

June 1, 2017
By Mills18 BRONZE, Dubuque, Iowa
Mills18 BRONZE, Dubuque, Iowa
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Your value doesn't decrease based on someones inability to see your worth."


People say that love is the most powerful force on Earth, but those who have felt true pain know that hurt can prevail over anything. It seems as though the people who are so optimistic about life and love and hope are the same people who have never had experience hurt, the way others have. Tell me, how can I think that love is so very powerful when love can't even save me from myself? Maybe I don't deserve to be saved or maybe I just don't care. There are still so many questions that I can't answer, and so the hurt continues, never ending, me fearing that I will die wishing for someone to save me.

But I can stop the pain, but even with the immense suffering I feel, something is still holding me back. A fear, a worry, of someone finding out, of someone stopping me. If there was one thing that you could do to stop yourself from hurting, would you do it? Never mind the fact that it would hurt everyone you love . . . But, I am only human and as hard as I try pain will always conquer me. I wish so much for someone to find me, to stop me, to tell me everything will be okay, but no one comes. And so, I cut, a new pain chasing away the hurt inside. My brain stops, the pain stops, and all I feel now is the adrenaline pulsing through my body. Thoughts fight their way past and I cut deeper, my breath heavy and slow, not thinking, just being. I wish to stay like this forever, silence surrounding me, only myself and the absence of my pain. My heart quickens as I hear footsteps padding up the hall, I cover my arm with my sleeves wincing at the fresh cuts and unlock the bathroom door. Before the interrogation has a chance to start I practice the prepared speech, repeating what I have said millions of times before. "I am fine, just a little nauseous" I say it with a blank smile, void of emotion, empty of thought. Even I wouldn't have believed me, I like to think that people don't notice because I am such a talented actress but the truth is people just don't care. Honestly it's a wonder I'm not dead yet. Death, I am terrified of death, but why? What am I so afraid of? Dying would be a relief to the pain and fear I feel now, so why can't I bring myself to do it? Maybe it’s fear that no one will miss me, maybe it's being labeled as suicidal, maybe I don't want the pain to end. . .

I have come to a point where every single day feels like a battle. I want so desperately to tell someone, but with truth comes heartache and questions that I am too exhausted to answer. Because they don't understand, they don't get how someone can feel so lost and alone that they don't see the point in life. They have never felt so low that they can't even see the light at the end of the tunnel. They would never understand, so the silence continues. Not knowing if today will be the end. Hoping that maybe today is when someone will stop and notice me, but, it never is. The few peaceful moments I have left are slipping from my reach and I no longer have the strength to save them. The cuts and burns that scar my wrist reflect the scars inside and I know now, it isn't long until my time is up.

I thought I would be more scared, when the end finally came, but it feels almost fitting, as though it were meant to be. I line the pills up along the floor, thinking how ironic it is, medicines that have helped me my whole life are now bringing me to my end. Silent tears fall from my cheeks to the floor, shedding away the hurt, ridding myself of the memories. I wish myself away from reality, the comfort of my safe place replacing any fears or doubt and warming my body. I allowing myself the peace that I have wanted for so long, regretting only that it hadn’t come sooner. Now, sitting here, my life coming to a close I see clearly, my future encouraging me toward the end. The light shining through, pulling me out of the darkness that I've been stuck for too long. Out of the light I hear the faint sound of footsteps and the rattling of a door, but all I see now is the light, guiding me closer. Sounds of sobs and screaming echo around me, pulling me away from the light. I'm so close, I reach for the light wanting it to take me away, wanting to leave so badly. "Let me leave, I want to leave".

Suddenly I feel the familiar embrace wrap around my body like a warm blanket. My body collapses into the safe arms of my mother, her voice soothing against my own terrified screams. I lay like this forever, scared and broken, like so many times before. Only this time is different, today I know that I am not alone, today I don't have to be afraid. My mom gently traces the scars that run along my forearm, trying to hold back the tears welling in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me", I can feel the faint whisper tickling my ear, before I hear her. I hesitate, not wanting to break the silence, "Because . . . I can hurt myself, but I can't hurt you too".


The author's comments:

I was inspired to write this piece by hearing all of these stories of people suffering with depression and mental illness. And how, nobody ever really talks about this sort of thing, but it is so important to get out there.


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