Abstracted.

I hate the cold. It makes me upset, lethargic and moody. But. At the same time, I love the cold. I can wear long-sleeves and cut myself up as much as I want and no one else will ever know that. Just like.... I can cover up my mental issues with a smile or the everlasting quiet that surround me. When I'm alone and insecure and all these emotions--and you can't tell, that I'm screaming, that I'm sad, under this emotionless face, these lackluster eyes and... the only thing that gives it away is this slight downward turning of the lips, that I can manipulate into a smile, anytime I'm around.... the public. I'm not sick. I tell that to myself in my head. You only cut because you're bored. It looks worse than it actually is, I swear. I don't have issues. I'm a happy, happy little person. You see, I'm not weak at all. Just because I cut.... I have a pain tolerance. Just because I hate myself.... I have a pain tolerance. I can bounce back up again. I can take the hits I do. And carry on.

It's just... fun... I guess. It's a good distraction. Physical pain to distract from the emotional distress, paranoia/reality that no one cares, depression and anxiety. I patch myself up afterwards. Got my... disinfectant and bandaids. Who says I can't take care of myself? I take care to cut in places where I won't hit an artery. Because I take care of not getting blood on the floor and scaring my roommate. I'm considerate. See? I'm totally normal. 
Fuzzies Fuzzies
61-65, M
Dec 8, 2013