Mirrors lie to me. Tell me you can see. Maybe you won’t be able to recognize me now. Feeling so easy, make me skin and bones. I'm always on my knees for you. Break me like it’s even. And you always win. Tearing me apart, and I hate how I need you.


Some lyrics to a song called Skin and Bones by Mariana’s Trench. Whether he’s talking to a girlfriend, a physical disease, a mental disease, a friend, a family member, or anything, that part doesn’t matter. What matters is what he’s expressing, because I think a lot of people can relate to at least some of this. I feel exactly the same way as this towards cutting. It’s like he took the words out of my subconscious. And it feels amazing. To hear that someone feels the same way as you. Not that you want them to feel all of these horrible things, but because you’re not the only one. And you’re not. No one is. There’s always someone out there who can relate to you (and vice versa).

I have had an epiphany of a weekend. I found out so many things about myself. So it started when I took a shower. And what an amazing shower it was.

____________________________________________________________



I’ll tell you about that later. Right now I'm feeling bad. Just got back from Steak ‘n Shake. I’m feeling really bad right now because on the way there, in the car, I was thinking about cutting without even knowing it (it’s become that normal, thinking about it 24/7). It’s always in the back of my mind constantly, even still, but I was thinking about it in the bad way this time. REALLY thinking about it. Thinking about the blood trickling down my eternally scarred, abused arm, wondering how to get a sharp, everything. AND I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THAT! I DON’T WANT TO CUT, I DON’T WANT TO WANT TO CUT, I DON’T WANT TO FEEL THAT WAY EVER AGAIN! That’s why I'm upset. Because I thought about it. And I felt like it. I don’t hate myself anymore though, I actually love myself sometimes. I still feel that I am worthy of being happy (that was a break-through. I broke down crying when I realized that). And I want to be free.

________________________________________________________



So, anyways, as I was saying before I interrupted myself last night with that encounter with an almost-urge, my shower was quite eye opening. It was dark in the bathroom, only a hint of dim light coming through the crack of the door, the darkness only a veil over my eyes, everything in the room being visible. I was washing my hair, my body, listening to music (that song up there), and rubbing my scars with soap, my entire arm, nurturing myself, self-soothing, or, as Dr. Rosen calls it, emotionally masturbating. She is a genius by the way, she’s like, the god of psychology. So, I was emotionally masturbating, looking at my scars through the darkness, and then it hit me—I didn’t do this; this HAPPENED to me. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know that I did it, but what I mean is that it’s not my fault. I always thought of it in a guilty way. Later that night, as I was trying to fall asleep in my mom’s bed (for safety reasons), I realized that I am worthy of being happy. And I began to cry. The quiet tears turned into sobs. I just... I don’t know. It’s just, it’s so many things, it’s shocking, It’s relieving, it’s blissful, and so many other positive adjectives.

________________________________________________________



Now, something more fun, I JUST PAINTED MY NAILS. THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL. Be jealous. I’ll try to post pictures of them. I'm going to re-dye my hair because I just earned some monayyy by doing a TON of laundry. Man, do my brothers clothes stink! Let me know which color you think I should chose either in a comment, private message, chat, whatever. And I’m buying much more BRNOA, a.k.a jewelry (Bracelets, Rings, Necklaces, and Other Accessories). Lol I'm such a dork, but being a dork is fun. I wore actual short sleeves yesterday. It was refreshing. I felt free, like I didn’t have to hide, like I was just any other person. I wasn’t showing off or anything (what kind of a thing is that to show off??), and I wasn’t trying to get attention, as some people might think. I’m accepting myself, scars (metaphorically) and all.


I feel happier now. I feel less lazy, less hungry. So many things. Just so much lighter. Like the depression has lifted a bit. Because I feel stronger than my addiction, because I know it, and because I believe it. I will be free.