Scars.

I'd like to say that my lowest point was the first and only time I've ever cut myself. That would be a lie though.

I can't remember the first, but the first time I can recall left a teeny mark on my chest. It was during some point in middle school and I was drowning with stress.

Middle school. Did you catch that? Middle school.

I needed help and there was none. I'd heard about kids cutting for fun, as unappealing as that sounds.

I however, wanted to know if I could feel anymore. I felt like all the emotions had been ripped away from me and I needed to make sure that I could still feel something.

Unfortunately, I did feel something…but it was the only thing I felt so I kept doing it. Eventually it was discovered by a teacher and I was watched like a hawk to where I stopped.

And then one day it started again. I wasn't to the point of suicide, but I was to the point of needing to feel again.

Except I was simultaneously in the midst of a panic attack and I panicked so hard that I slit myself something bad, real bad. The amount of blood that came out surprised me so much that I snapped out of my attack for once in my life and then started panicking for an entirely different reason. I was alone in a parking lot, late at night, with no first aid. I used my shirt to put pressure to the thin, but piercing wound. I cried a little, then eventually wandered home.

As I stated, that was not the first time, but it has been the last. Knowing that I'm capable of mutilating my own body like that was a revelation. One that I should never have been made to find out. Yet here I am. With that knowledge.

I wish I could speak to every child who is like me. I wish I could tell them that the feelings, the pain, it's not worth it. It seems that way, when you struggle to feel anything at all, any emotion at all known to man, but it's just not. Nothing is worth the scars.

You see? Those temporary feelings, the temporary reliefs they brought me, now they're daily reminders of trauma. Fierce reminders of my struggle and I'm not proud to look down and see my pain in physical form. I'd give anything to take it back.

Please rethink. Please reach out. I'm here. I know. I've been where you've been. We can get through this together.

You're not alone.

I'm here.

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