Pt 1: WHY
Why do I cut?
When I stare at my bare, naked body in the mirror... I despise it.
I hate everything about every inch of myself.
It makes me angry.
It makes me want to punish myself for being so ugly.
So out of anger, I paint on the canvas of my flinching skin... and I cry as I do it because I know it's not my fault.
But there's no one else to blame.
It's the times when I don't remember when I showered last but I know I haven't brushed my hair in three days.
It's when even seeing other people smile makes me want to cry.
It's seeing my scars and weeping because I know that I'll never feel okay.
It's staying up all night comforting a friend over a tiny stupid problem and knowing that they won't help me.
It's crying so hard that I don't even make noise and I'm just a shaking heap.
It's breaking a mirror with my fist because I can't stand to look in it anymore.
It's never being good enough for anyone.
It's that I fake a smile while others pretend to be sad.
It's that people say I do this for attention.
If I wanted attention would I be trying to pretend so hard?
Would I wear long sleeves even I'm the scorching heat?
Would I refuse to go swimming even though it's my favorite thing to do?
Would I lose points in P.E. for not dressing out?
Why can't people love me for me?
I guess I get it..
I can't even love me for me...
I'm a fake.
I'm not me anymore.
I don't know myself anymore.
I don't even know who I used to be or who I want to be.
I just live every day like some sort cycle.
Emotionless on the outside, dying in the inside.
I smile all day and cry all night.
It's when I exercise to the point that I am unable to breathe and it hurts to move.
It's when I have to hold the top of my sleeve as I raise my hand in class.
It's using bathroom passes until the middle of class because I'm having a mental breakdown and I'm crying.
It's the fact that I'm writing these words at one in the morning in a Sunday night and I know I have school in the morning but I can't sleep.
It's when the music in my headphones is so loud that I can't hear myself crying through it.
It's when I run into my room and slam my door and throw things and blast music and slam my head into walls,