The Cut *Trigger Warning*

My brother has scars along both of his arms. I think most people can easily guess the cause. At some time he cut himself. I remember when the scars appeared but I only could see a small piece of the picture.

A few years ago, while on a walk with me mom, the topic of self harm surfaced. My mom questioned why anyone would ever want to do that. I shrugged off the question; the world went on. Inside though I knew. I knew because I had done it-and not just once. Of course I was sure to make mine not as obvious as my brother’s scars. But I knew where they were hidden.

I’ve never been able to admit to myself why I do it before. It wasn’t until the last few times that I looked at the truth. I did it because it felt good. It released the tightening in my chest. It brought calm. It put a pause on the storm. I never started doing it because I wanted to feel better. Anger. I was filled with anger- mostly towards myself. I deserved it. These are the lies that fill my head when I am in the depths of depression. It can have a thick grasp on my mind. Of course there was only relief for a short time. Guilt would follow. Guilt is easier to deal with than a sadness that penetrates your soul. After the guilt comes a tiny self forgiveness and will to get better. It also comes with a heavier burden knowing that there is a true problem to solve. A real demon to kill. It is a vicious cycle. At times I have been able to pause the cycle but I’ve learned that is always comes back. And it always will unless I am able to stare my demons in the face and allow them to leave. Putting this down on paper is how I am choosing to stare my demons in the face. I have to do more than just tell them to leave. Hope that it will happen. Plead with God to take it away. I have to let my demons leave. Goodbye.