I stumbled upon this on Tumblr. And it brought out some memories.
Sad but true... I still remember those times. Some little scars does. It's more then 15 years from those times. I still remember the feeling of the sadness, anger and the relief that would come after it. I would cut little stripes with razor devouring the pain itself and then would watch the blood seeping from the wound till it would start to clot. I ended it if I felt that was enough but sometimes I just had to make another one and another one... It was my silent fight with my inner pain, anger, demons... Call whatever you like it. The world was changing for me and no one led me. That was a scary place. It's strange to remember it now. Really... When I see young people cutting themselves I sometimes just think "Why? They have homes, parent's they go to university, have friends. Life is easy. You don't have to struggle everyday when you on your own, when you have job you hate, have to work hard to pay your rent for an apartment that you even don't like. Why the hell? What is so bad about your life when everything is given" It's hard to understand from a grown up position. I too was also always fed, had clothes, my own room, a player, I was allowed to dye my hair, dress more or less how I wanted. All I had to do was study, clean my room and do the chores time to time. But still... I felt miserable. Well, I had no confidence in myself back then... It was zero. I started to build it latter but at that moment I felt like being empty, not important at all. I couldn't understand the meaning of this kind of life. Sound silly, yeah? :D Well, I turned out to be alright. In fact if the young myself would meet future me she would be more then pleased. Somehow mystically I turned out to be the way I always wanted :D I would love to meet silly short red hair me of the past and say " Well hello darling. Guess who?! :D "
What I want to say i I feel sad when I notice cuts on a person. I see them as an old me drowning in fears, anger and sadness. I just don't know how to pass a message "Everything is going to be OK" and not to look cold and witless as my mother back then.