My Battle Wounds, Inflicting Pain To Stop My Pain.

I was 13 years old when I started cutting, I am now 23 years old and still do it
It is an addiction, a coping skill learned throughout the years
A way to stay alive.
I am alive today because of cutting
It is far fetched to believe that it is a good way to cope, it has ruined my life
My relationships, I am a mother now to a 4 year old little boy
Someday I will have to explain mommy's scars, mommy's dirty little secret
And I will once again feel shame.

My scars are my stories, my memories, my hate, my anger, my grief.
I have thousands of scars, because I have thousands of memories.
Some scars are deeper than others, some hurt more.
I ran out of room on my arms, so I eventually covered my legs, stomach, thighs, ribs, anywhere I could find.
The deep ones were the easiest to do, they gave me the most relief.
When I see the red, and the drips the crimson flood I feel alive again, I feel powerful.
I never had control over anything that happend to me,
I couldn't stop my dad from leaving me
I couldn't stop my mom's " boyfriend " from raping me
I couldn't stop the drugs, the alochol from consuming me
I couldn't stop the overdoses
I couldn't stop the trips to the ER to pump my stomach, to stich a wrist
I couldn't stop anything, I was helpless and alone.
The only thing I had control over was my way of dealing with pain
It is a condtridiction to stop pain, by inflicting it
But once the blade was on my skin I felt alive, I felt ready to face my day.
Once it was over and the deed was done
That old sting, the burning feeling, the raised bumps the red marks around the scar
That pain was what I deserved, it was what I needed to get through my life.

I have no idea how to handle things without cutting
It was what I had, it was the only thing that didnt
Lie to me, hurt me, leave me, it was my best friend.
It was my life.
Shawnnas Shawnnas
22-25, F
May 20, 2012