From Scabs to Scars


Well, I made it.

Two months ago, if you told me I’d be free of self harm for two months, I would’ve made some snarky comment outlining the impossibility of such a thing.

Looks like it’s time to eat my words.

Today, I am EIGHT WEEKS free of self harm. There were days I almost lost it. I came so close to burning I could close my eyes and imagine the searing release of pressing the flaming torch to my skin and letting it burn away my problems.

Or so I thought. In actuality, self harm was a problem. It does nothing to solve my problems, it only gives me an illusion of control. A false sense of calm. It’s a sense of numbness created by nothing but delusions.

The scars that litter my forearm will never be worth the few seconds of release that come from the searing pain.

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