there are quite a few of these, if i can sort them out in my head enough to share them.
tonight, i wanted to share my fondest memory of a guy i rarely talked to, a guy who got me and my sister confused once, but also a guy who i hugged almost every time i saw him.
in my purposes of not ever really naming names, for the most part, i am going to refer to this guy as JB. he was one of my friends, sort of, back in high school.
we never really hung out at all either. suffice it to say i thought he was entertaining, and funny, and cool, and even kinda cute. i do not recall ever having any classes with him, but somewhere, somehow, our paths crossed, most likely from us both being into theatre activities.
which brings me to my story.
it was opening night for the winter play in my senior year of high school. i was fairly calm initially upon arriving hours beforehand to get ready and go over any last minute preparations and/or practice.
bring in my most recent ex at the time, let's call him JCH (and hopefully you wont get too confused between the two people).
we had broken up only perhaps a little over a month prior to this night, mainly due to the fact that we never got to see each other(but mostly i didn't want to be with someone so manipulative and flaky).
he called me. after all, we still talked to each other. still on a speaking terms. i was not, as of yet, dating anyone new. i walked out back behind the dressing room area, outside into the dark night, to answer the phone, since i still had plenty of time.
for whatever reason, that of which i just can't remember even a little bit, he got mad at me and made me feel really bad about whatever it was.
here i was, trying to still be friends with him, and he was making me feel awful.
when i finally got off the phone with him, and then eventually stopped crying, i went back inside and just kinda sat there. on the edge of the sofa in there. feeling horribly, horribly depressed. knowing that not-too-long from that moment i would have to get out on that stage and perform, no matter what i felt at the time.
i wasn't crying anymore. but i must've been awfully quiet for quite a while.
in comes JB. he walks up to me. starts talking to me, with that sweet smile that always seemed to adorn him. at some point, we started talking about watching the stars. he asked me if i liked staying out and watching the stars. when i told him i did, at first i thought the conversation was over. it looked like he was going to walk away. i figured at the time he probably realized he had something better to do that to chat with me.
instead, he went across the room, grabbed a pillow, came back and grabbed my hand. he pulled me up off the sofa and led me out back. he proceeded to put the pillow down on the concrete and sat down, and told me to sit down with him. i did.
and well, eventually he laid back down, with his head on the pillow, so he could watch the stars.
i continued to sit there. i felt strange. i did not know, in this situation, what was appropriate or correct or whatever. he chuckled and told me to lie down and share the pillow with him. i did as i was told (i felt odd. the pillow was barely big enough for one person to use. our head were right against each other).
we lied there for what seemed like ages. just watching the stars together. no words needed.
and i felt.
i felt so peaceful.
it was so simple.
a simple moment with a friend.
but the wonders it worked on my emotional state that night. i do not know why, or how, but it really cheered me up. i felt so much better.
i went on and performed and everything was fine.
and i will never, ever forget that night.
<3
nothing changed between us after that. all i knew was that i had something special to appreciate about JB after that. something to make me smile.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
existential
see the girl sitting alone on the park bench.
it is summer. humid, exhausting heat.
she is is sitting there, in long-sleeve turtleneck and skinny jeans, faded black converse and untidy black hair that surrounds her delciate face and only brings out further the shadows around her eyes.
she can't be older than seventeen.
she stares out, staright ahead, hollow eyes, blank expression. vacant stare.
no one is there.
you are tempted to go sit on the bench next to her. you want to say something. anything. tell her you're sorry that the world is so cruel. tell her how much you wish you could show her the beauty around her, the beauty within her. tell her you bet she has a pretty smile, and gorgeoues eyes when they aren't so hidden, and oh, how her hair flows so elegantly in the wind, how her fragile frame makes her lovely.
you are scared, though. afraid what you might find if you look into her eyes. afraid to see what ghosts look like. afraid to face your demons.
see, there is nobody here, but you and her.
and she, she is nothing but a figment, or
she is you.
and you are no one.
you never existed.
the earth fades beneath your feet and
you disappear.
it is summer. humid, exhausting heat.
she is is sitting there, in long-sleeve turtleneck and skinny jeans, faded black converse and untidy black hair that surrounds her delciate face and only brings out further the shadows around her eyes.
she can't be older than seventeen.
she stares out, staright ahead, hollow eyes, blank expression. vacant stare.
no one is there.
you are tempted to go sit on the bench next to her. you want to say something. anything. tell her you're sorry that the world is so cruel. tell her how much you wish you could show her the beauty around her, the beauty within her. tell her you bet she has a pretty smile, and gorgeoues eyes when they aren't so hidden, and oh, how her hair flows so elegantly in the wind, how her fragile frame makes her lovely.
you are scared, though. afraid what you might find if you look into her eyes. afraid to see what ghosts look like. afraid to face your demons.
see, there is nobody here, but you and her.
and she, she is nothing but a figment, or
she is you.
and you are no one.
you never existed.
the earth fades beneath your feet and
you disappear.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
the way we drag this around
i am waiting, early in the morning, restless, and longing to hear that sweetest of voices. here is the voice of the demon, the temptuous, treacherous sounds a bones grinding against each other, of steam from fires that hisses, of dark things.
somewhere in the dust, the dust that crowds the cobwebs below my bed, my soul has taken refuge, crying bitterly over the aching distance that separates her from her counterpart, weeping over lost dreams and broken hearts and too many things must be analyzed, and too many things must be changed, and too many things.
too many voices echo in reply. old, young, female or male, varied accents, different languages, complex or simples ways of speaking. it is too much to try and separate them from each other.
somewhere, a little girl is crying.
a man stands sternly against the wall, arms folding, muttering curses.
a woman whispers.
a teenager sings harmonies.
a child. a child that bleeds out and dies. alone. all alone.
back on the surface, i am contemplating the difference in texture between fictitious and living hearts. my eyes wander opaque darkness of ceiling and walls.
i do not want to stay here any longer.
somewhere in the dust, the dust that crowds the cobwebs below my bed, my soul has taken refuge, crying bitterly over the aching distance that separates her from her counterpart, weeping over lost dreams and broken hearts and too many things must be analyzed, and too many things must be changed, and too many things.
too many voices echo in reply. old, young, female or male, varied accents, different languages, complex or simples ways of speaking. it is too much to try and separate them from each other.
somewhere, a little girl is crying.
a man stands sternly against the wall, arms folding, muttering curses.
a woman whispers.
a teenager sings harmonies.
a child. a child that bleeds out and dies. alone. all alone.
back on the surface, i am contemplating the difference in texture between fictitious and living hearts. my eyes wander opaque darkness of ceiling and walls.
i do not want to stay here any longer.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
annual occurences
starting out with...yes, i'm pretty sure i have the flu right now. again. i have gotten it like...every january for the past 5 or 6 years. kind of like how i've been sick every christmas day for the past 5 or 6 years. oh fun.
it's fine though. i'm all jacked up on pseudophedrine HCl right now. gotta love drugs. plus i inted to use my neti pot at some point. i love that thing. once i got used to it, it actually is nice. i just need to make a habit of using it more often, like at least once a week.
yes, you may point out the fact that getting a flu shot would probably have been worthwhile to me, but hey. i don't know. my teacher said the same thing. but i mean, i do okay just dealing and taking my drugs and oh god i do not like vaccines. so yeah. and...ummm...i am mad about the latex allergy. it sucks. i am so thankful that most of the time i can find vinyl gloves.
yep. i have to avoid things made of latex, certain kinds of adhesive in things like bandaids and medical tape, and certain lubricants, and it can really suck sometimes but i find that i can manage everything alright.
i was just thinking about latex because some vaccine stuff part of the syringe might have latex in it, but i think i have to have direct contact for a significant period of time for it to be an issue. but i still don't like vaccines....last one i got was the freaking Gardasil that left whatever arm i got it in useless for the remainder of the day and hurt like a bitch.
anyways,
i am feeling relieved. i finally located my wallet yesterday. it found its way back behind the drawer in one of my dressers so i initially did not see it when i searched for it.
now i can commence my plans to go see an eye doctor and finally get new glasses (since everyone and their mom likes to point out to me the fact that my glasses are crooked--as if i had no idea they were).
i am happy, despite being sick. school is almost finished. getting a job shouldn't be too difficult. going to start studying for my permit test again. and though i am unhappy with the random crap my teacher keeps throwing at me with tests (further lowering ym grade in the class bleh) i am dealing with it.
it's whatever with me at this point. my main concern with that class is to get out of it what i need to pass the certification exam. so what if i end up with a B? lame, but not too big of a deal in the big scheme of things. i'll be fine.
though i shall try my hardest to do well on this next exam anyway. because i can.
i want to do well, even if i am constantly frustrated. my teacher decided to make the test twice as difficult as usual, without telling me it would be that way, because i'm the only one left in this class and i'm smart enough to handle the tougher questions. i am fine with it now, but a heads up would have been nice considering it changes what i study and just how much studying i need to cram in to do well.
otherwise, happiness.
things are going well on my end. also going well on my boyfriend's end.
life is good. i miss my family though. my cali family. i love them so much and it has been quite some time since i last saw any of them. plus, my sister and brother out in OK.
only because the closest decent family member i can really talk to around here is in MD. my uncle and his family are nice, but i have never been particularly close to any of them. can't really talk to them much, so yeah.
depending on how job stuff pans out, i may be staying in PA for quite a while. seeing as how, if i get that job at Walgreens, i want to keep it as long as possible, or at least until the job market gets way better than it is right now.
but happiness. stability, for the most part. without meds. i know that meds could be helpful, but at the same time, they always hold me back in certain ways and it is easier to not have to worry about how i will get them. i manage well enough on my own. it has taken a while to get to this point where i feel comfortable on my own, managing my emotions as they are, mental disorders/chemical imbalances, and what have you. i cope. i get by. i have my moments, but these days they haven't been as bad. or frequent.
having things to focus on, to dedicate myself to, really helps. having someone to pour ridiculous amounts of love onto helps even more.
especially because i have finally found someone who:
1. does not hold my issues against me
2. if completely willing to help me out as much as he can when i'm having trouble
3. handles himself and the situation very, very well when problems arise
4. is stable. (two unstable people does not a healthy relationship make).
we both have our faults, flaws, times of weakness, but are both so caring, understanding, respectful, responsible, etc. that it works out just fine.
and also: COMMUNICATION
finally.
finally i have found someone who is completely honest with me. i believe in brutal honesty. i do not want someone keeping how they really feel away from me just to spare my feelings. in the end, when people do that, i feel hurt because they did not trust me enough to tell me how they really feel about something.
every time an issue/argument/whatever comes up, we immediately discuss and resolve it. yes.
it is so refreshing to be with someone who is just as dedicated and keeping this relationship healthy and successful and full of love and understanding.
that's really all i ever wanted. all the cool things, like his awesome bass playing and poetry writing and nerdiness, are just bonuses i really appreciate and love, but in the end it comes down to the importance of communicating and respecting each other and being responsible about things and just plain loving each other no matter what.
that is how relationships and love should be. are supposed to be. this is how my current romantic relationship is. and i am thankful for that.
there are those of you who saw just how much bad, unhealthy, hurtful relationships affected me in the past. so i am hoping you see that this one is different. and i am much better off because of it. and very happy.
and i am glad that you ever cared in the past about my safety and happiness. i am glad people have watched out for me, even if i didn't always listen to them. i am glad you were there for me anyway. it means a lot.
all my love,
Heather
it's fine though. i'm all jacked up on pseudophedrine HCl right now. gotta love drugs. plus i inted to use my neti pot at some point. i love that thing. once i got used to it, it actually is nice. i just need to make a habit of using it more often, like at least once a week.
yes, you may point out the fact that getting a flu shot would probably have been worthwhile to me, but hey. i don't know. my teacher said the same thing. but i mean, i do okay just dealing and taking my drugs and oh god i do not like vaccines. so yeah. and...ummm...i am mad about the latex allergy. it sucks. i am so thankful that most of the time i can find vinyl gloves.
yep. i have to avoid things made of latex, certain kinds of adhesive in things like bandaids and medical tape, and certain lubricants, and it can really suck sometimes but i find that i can manage everything alright.
i was just thinking about latex because some vaccine stuff part of the syringe might have latex in it, but i think i have to have direct contact for a significant period of time for it to be an issue. but i still don't like vaccines....last one i got was the freaking Gardasil that left whatever arm i got it in useless for the remainder of the day and hurt like a bitch.
anyways,
i am feeling relieved. i finally located my wallet yesterday. it found its way back behind the drawer in one of my dressers so i initially did not see it when i searched for it.
now i can commence my plans to go see an eye doctor and finally get new glasses (since everyone and their mom likes to point out to me the fact that my glasses are crooked--as if i had no idea they were).
i am happy, despite being sick. school is almost finished. getting a job shouldn't be too difficult. going to start studying for my permit test again. and though i am unhappy with the random crap my teacher keeps throwing at me with tests (further lowering ym grade in the class bleh) i am dealing with it.
it's whatever with me at this point. my main concern with that class is to get out of it what i need to pass the certification exam. so what if i end up with a B? lame, but not too big of a deal in the big scheme of things. i'll be fine.
though i shall try my hardest to do well on this next exam anyway. because i can.
i want to do well, even if i am constantly frustrated. my teacher decided to make the test twice as difficult as usual, without telling me it would be that way, because i'm the only one left in this class and i'm smart enough to handle the tougher questions. i am fine with it now, but a heads up would have been nice considering it changes what i study and just how much studying i need to cram in to do well.
otherwise, happiness.
things are going well on my end. also going well on my boyfriend's end.
life is good. i miss my family though. my cali family. i love them so much and it has been quite some time since i last saw any of them. plus, my sister and brother out in OK.
only because the closest decent family member i can really talk to around here is in MD. my uncle and his family are nice, but i have never been particularly close to any of them. can't really talk to them much, so yeah.
depending on how job stuff pans out, i may be staying in PA for quite a while. seeing as how, if i get that job at Walgreens, i want to keep it as long as possible, or at least until the job market gets way better than it is right now.
but happiness. stability, for the most part. without meds. i know that meds could be helpful, but at the same time, they always hold me back in certain ways and it is easier to not have to worry about how i will get them. i manage well enough on my own. it has taken a while to get to this point where i feel comfortable on my own, managing my emotions as they are, mental disorders/chemical imbalances, and what have you. i cope. i get by. i have my moments, but these days they haven't been as bad. or frequent.
having things to focus on, to dedicate myself to, really helps. having someone to pour ridiculous amounts of love onto helps even more.
especially because i have finally found someone who:
1. does not hold my issues against me
2. if completely willing to help me out as much as he can when i'm having trouble
3. handles himself and the situation very, very well when problems arise
4. is stable. (two unstable people does not a healthy relationship make).
we both have our faults, flaws, times of weakness, but are both so caring, understanding, respectful, responsible, etc. that it works out just fine.
and also: COMMUNICATION
finally.
finally i have found someone who is completely honest with me. i believe in brutal honesty. i do not want someone keeping how they really feel away from me just to spare my feelings. in the end, when people do that, i feel hurt because they did not trust me enough to tell me how they really feel about something.
every time an issue/argument/whatever comes up, we immediately discuss and resolve it. yes.
it is so refreshing to be with someone who is just as dedicated and keeping this relationship healthy and successful and full of love and understanding.
that's really all i ever wanted. all the cool things, like his awesome bass playing and poetry writing and nerdiness, are just bonuses i really appreciate and love, but in the end it comes down to the importance of communicating and respecting each other and being responsible about things and just plain loving each other no matter what.
that is how relationships and love should be. are supposed to be. this is how my current romantic relationship is. and i am thankful for that.
there are those of you who saw just how much bad, unhealthy, hurtful relationships affected me in the past. so i am hoping you see that this one is different. and i am much better off because of it. and very happy.
and i am glad that you ever cared in the past about my safety and happiness. i am glad people have watched out for me, even if i didn't always listen to them. i am glad you were there for me anyway. it means a lot.
all my love,
Heather
Friday, January 14, 2011
stars inside us.
i found a fallen star
deep inside your heart
glowing desperately
against the growing dark
my fingers burned
as i reached into the flames
but i refused to cry out
as my skin felt the blaze
the colors were strange
and reflected in your eyes
so different from the stars
i've seen in the nightly skies
heat poured through my veins
and melted my frozen spirit
the time my heart screamed, it seemed
you were the only one to hear it
i soon became lost
in the beauty that i saw
took a chance on this star
though afraid i would fall
i swam into the fire
until i found the core
just a fraction as lovely
as it must've been before
i held it in my hands
blessed it with a gentle kiss
hoping in my wandering love to
take your pain and leave you in bliss
now your wounds are healing
and your star shines so bright
and my own star you've led
into a world of love and light
deep inside your heart
glowing desperately
against the growing dark
my fingers burned
as i reached into the flames
but i refused to cry out
as my skin felt the blaze
the colors were strange
and reflected in your eyes
so different from the stars
i've seen in the nightly skies
heat poured through my veins
and melted my frozen spirit
the time my heart screamed, it seemed
you were the only one to hear it
i soon became lost
in the beauty that i saw
took a chance on this star
though afraid i would fall
i swam into the fire
until i found the core
just a fraction as lovely
as it must've been before
i held it in my hands
blessed it with a gentle kiss
hoping in my wandering love to
take your pain and leave you in bliss
now your wounds are healing
and your star shines so bright
and my own star you've led
into a world of love and light
this is how it is
this post, it should've probably been made months ago.
i feel the need to point out that whatever i say is honest, as honest i can be.
but these are only my perceptions, my feelings, that i can describe. i cannot truly account for others here. this is me.
what i am telling you here is what i honestly believe to have occurred, how i saw it at the time, and how it made me feel.
it is a fact that facts can become skewed over time. Details change. I remember things as I remember them and chances are I may be off a little. Or at least, others may have a different side to the same story, with different facts.
However, this is me. I tell you, this is me. I am not you. i do not know what you saw. or heard. Or thought.
you can bring up stories of your own. we can discuss things. but for me, this is how it is.
the only promise i can make is that here i am as honest as i possibly can be. i am as accurate as i can be. i try to describe things as best i can, try to make sense as much as i can, without losing that sense of self and my own feelings.
this is how its.
i feel the need to point out that whatever i say is honest, as honest i can be.
but these are only my perceptions, my feelings, that i can describe. i cannot truly account for others here. this is me.
what i am telling you here is what i honestly believe to have occurred, how i saw it at the time, and how it made me feel.
it is a fact that facts can become skewed over time. Details change. I remember things as I remember them and chances are I may be off a little. Or at least, others may have a different side to the same story, with different facts.
However, this is me. I tell you, this is me. I am not you. i do not know what you saw. or heard. Or thought.
you can bring up stories of your own. we can discuss things. but for me, this is how it is.
the only promise i can make is that here i am as honest as i possibly can be. i am as accurate as i can be. i try to describe things as best i can, try to make sense as much as i can, without losing that sense of self and my own feelings.
this is how its.
bit and pieces-1
i do not know when most people would date the beginning of my path down the dark road of self-mutilation.
there are various points in the timeline.
the earliest instances i can account for date back to when i was only 8 years old. even before i started biting my nails.
i do not know who i have told and who i haven't. and who would think that a child at such an age would ever intentionally get into a routine of self-injury?
it is not the cutting. the cutting didn't start until my sophomore years of highschool, some 7 years later.
but i came to the realization, at least a few years ago, that what i used to do to myself at such an early age definitely falls into the category of self-injury.
Third grade:
We moved twice during that school year, bringing me to a total of 4 different homeroom teachers in one year(at the second school, they switched me to the advanced class after deciding i was too smart to be in the regular one).
It was not until the second time we moved that this started to occur.
I was both happy and unhappy. Unhappy because new school meant going to square one. I was the new kid. Had no friends. Too quiet. Easy target. Too smart. Too good. Little children do not like anyone who somehow might be better than them. oh, no they certainly do not.
Happy because I was finally free of him. Evil, evil man. Scary man. I used to hide from him when he was angry because if i didn't hide he might get me. Might hurt me. I never knew what he was capable of, how far he would go.
Finally we left him. Finally.
But I was scarred forever. How could my mother allow this person to be apart of our lives? Even for a moment? He was mean and scary and he hurt me. And my sister.
Suffuce it to say, I would never undo this time because.
Because of this time, there exists one of my favorite people in the entire world. I love her so much and would go through that again to have her in my life.
Back to the story, though.
I was scarred. I was alone. Friendless. Frightened. Quiet. Confused.
My teacher did not care that the other kids picked on me. In fact, there were at least two incidences where she only added to the hurt they created. She was a crazy old cat lady. 18 cats. Did not care that I was afraid or alone. No. yelled at kids for stomping on ants. did nothing when i got teased, publicly, right in front of her face.
Meanwhile, at home, even more pain. Physical hurt continued. Worse and more confusing and no way for me to hide and too afraid to say anything. At eight years old, how could I possibly understand what was occurring? What does it mean when the people who are supposed to love you, people you love, hurt you? I was eight. I had little understanding of what was wright and wrong in familial relationships. I had little understanding of boundaries.
So I started taking trips to the bathroom at school. And on these little trips, I found a way to mask the pain. By causing myself pain. How does this make sense? But something inside of me pushed me into it, and not even knowing what it meant, I obeyed.
This is what I did:
I would go to the sink in the bathroom. Turn on the water so hot that steam would rise. Thrust my hands under the stream of water. Hold them there, no matter how much it hurt, until my hands were swollen and bright pink.
I burned my hands. Repeatedly. In this way.
Nobody ever noticed. I do not remember if i ever tried to hide it. Maybe I did. Maybe i didn't. but nobody, as far as I could tell, ever saw this.
This went on for a long time. Continued on into middle school. Right up until the point where I started cutting actually.
or well, there are in-between stages. Things like sticking safety pins through my hands and tying ribbons so tightly around my wrists that i cut off the cicrculation to my hand for several minutes, let it lie there on my desk, all blue-grey and puffy looking.
these are things i know i did not hide. yet nobody ever mentioned them to me. for whatever reason.
my childhood is what it is. there are good things in there somewhere. but good things do not leave marks. and so, are much more easily forgotten.
to this day, i still bite my nails. nervous habit, at this point. feel like i always need to do something with my hands.
i may never really go into detail openly about what actually occurred between me and certain people. i may, in time, speak out about the fact of how very skewed by perception of love became because of it. but that is another story on its own. for another day, if i can ever find the words to describe how scrwed up that view was.
there are various points in the timeline.
the earliest instances i can account for date back to when i was only 8 years old. even before i started biting my nails.
i do not know who i have told and who i haven't. and who would think that a child at such an age would ever intentionally get into a routine of self-injury?
it is not the cutting. the cutting didn't start until my sophomore years of highschool, some 7 years later.
but i came to the realization, at least a few years ago, that what i used to do to myself at such an early age definitely falls into the category of self-injury.
Third grade:
We moved twice during that school year, bringing me to a total of 4 different homeroom teachers in one year(at the second school, they switched me to the advanced class after deciding i was too smart to be in the regular one).
It was not until the second time we moved that this started to occur.
I was both happy and unhappy. Unhappy because new school meant going to square one. I was the new kid. Had no friends. Too quiet. Easy target. Too smart. Too good. Little children do not like anyone who somehow might be better than them. oh, no they certainly do not.
Happy because I was finally free of him. Evil, evil man. Scary man. I used to hide from him when he was angry because if i didn't hide he might get me. Might hurt me. I never knew what he was capable of, how far he would go.
Finally we left him. Finally.
But I was scarred forever. How could my mother allow this person to be apart of our lives? Even for a moment? He was mean and scary and he hurt me. And my sister.
Suffuce it to say, I would never undo this time because.
Because of this time, there exists one of my favorite people in the entire world. I love her so much and would go through that again to have her in my life.
Back to the story, though.
I was scarred. I was alone. Friendless. Frightened. Quiet. Confused.
My teacher did not care that the other kids picked on me. In fact, there were at least two incidences where she only added to the hurt they created. She was a crazy old cat lady. 18 cats. Did not care that I was afraid or alone. No. yelled at kids for stomping on ants. did nothing when i got teased, publicly, right in front of her face.
Meanwhile, at home, even more pain. Physical hurt continued. Worse and more confusing and no way for me to hide and too afraid to say anything. At eight years old, how could I possibly understand what was occurring? What does it mean when the people who are supposed to love you, people you love, hurt you? I was eight. I had little understanding of what was wright and wrong in familial relationships. I had little understanding of boundaries.
So I started taking trips to the bathroom at school. And on these little trips, I found a way to mask the pain. By causing myself pain. How does this make sense? But something inside of me pushed me into it, and not even knowing what it meant, I obeyed.
This is what I did:
I would go to the sink in the bathroom. Turn on the water so hot that steam would rise. Thrust my hands under the stream of water. Hold them there, no matter how much it hurt, until my hands were swollen and bright pink.
I burned my hands. Repeatedly. In this way.
Nobody ever noticed. I do not remember if i ever tried to hide it. Maybe I did. Maybe i didn't. but nobody, as far as I could tell, ever saw this.
This went on for a long time. Continued on into middle school. Right up until the point where I started cutting actually.
or well, there are in-between stages. Things like sticking safety pins through my hands and tying ribbons so tightly around my wrists that i cut off the cicrculation to my hand for several minutes, let it lie there on my desk, all blue-grey and puffy looking.
these are things i know i did not hide. yet nobody ever mentioned them to me. for whatever reason.
my childhood is what it is. there are good things in there somewhere. but good things do not leave marks. and so, are much more easily forgotten.
to this day, i still bite my nails. nervous habit, at this point. feel like i always need to do something with my hands.
i may never really go into detail openly about what actually occurred between me and certain people. i may, in time, speak out about the fact of how very skewed by perception of love became because of it. but that is another story on its own. for another day, if i can ever find the words to describe how scrwed up that view was.
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