Lady Rage

Copyright, Lady Rage

I need to say my bit. I have been cutting myself for only about 3 months. At first it was because I couldn’t commit suicide. I’d already failed at that twice. But cutting wasn’t about death, it reminded me of, it was like a real life dream of death, except I’d still be alive afterwards. I don’t cut myself as much now, it’s weird but it actually hurts now. When I was really depressed and never going out, I didn’t feel any pain. But now, it really kills so I can’t really do it even when I want to. The main reason I’m writing in is because I think I’m too open about it. At first it was just a couple of my friends that knew, we didn’t talk about it, I just said look, there it is and please don’t worry about it. Since then I’ve gotten my social life back and it is so frustrating to be out in the sun, burning up and desperately wanting to take my jacket off. I’m trying to slowly get people used to the sight of my arms so that I can be relaxed around people. But I think that it’s probably a bad idea. Now 3 of my friends know how I really got those scars on my arms. I have told 3 more that I got attacked by a cat. I can’t carry on hiding them and I don’t want to. The look on some peoples’ faces and the way their eyes keep drawing back to my arms is pretty upsetting. I think most people think it is an attention seeking thing. Maybe it is. I don’t know, all I know is I hate the way it makes me feel, knowing people can see them, knowing that they are thinking I’m an attention seeker. Knowing I can’t explain it without smiling (which is weird as well so people think I’m happy about it). But I’m trying and little by little, I’m introducing people to my arms as well as me. I think I’m going too fast though, for them, not for me. But they will never ever see my legs.


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