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Trash Palace

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Copyright Trash Palace

Please excuse my English (I’m Mexican, and even when I’m married to an english man I still get wrong some words). I don’t really know how to say this without making it sound as a parental speech, but you’ll probably understand later in this message. I started self injuring when I was in high school. Like every teenager I had troubles and thought of each of them as the end of the world. I never coped very well with my feelings, and thought that if I distracted myself with physical pain the emotional pain would go away. But it didn’t. A look to the cuts would remind me of the sadness and so I was never really happy. Time went by with me thinking that I didn’t deserve to be loved, even when I had loads of friends and relatives who kept on trying to cheer me up. And then this one day I met a nice guy, and when I felt confident enough I told him about my problem. He made me promise that I would never harm myself again. So I stopped for a considerable time, until we had a huge argument. I thought he was walking away from me, so I did it one more time. When he saw my arm covered in scars he went berserk. Looking back I think it was the worst way I could react to the fear of being alone again. A sensible talk would have been enough to work things out. Now I’ve got these horrible reminders of my mistakes. We have a baby daughter, nearly three months old. She’ll probably ask what happened to me when she’s older. I’ll try to tell her that her mom was very young and silly. We’ll give her all the love in the world so she’ll never feel the need to bleed. Because it would break my heart to see her suffering in any way. I’m sure there’s someone out there that loves you too. Look for those who care and don’t be afraid to ask for help, a sincere talk is ten thousand times more helpful than a cut that slowly fades. Don’t wait until is too late, you’ll regret it the rest of your life.

 

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