Worthless hidden scars (My self harm story)

Role Play

That morning I had been arguing with my mum again and with my short temper getting worse, I left the house slamming the door before making my way to the dreaded role play.

Rain started to pour and I was begining to feel that today wasn't going to be the smoothest day I've had. Do you know that feeling, where you know the day just isn't going to go good? Well, yeah that. Watching the yellow school bus emerge closer, I pulled out my bus pass and fell into my role. Stepping onto the bus and waving my unplesant pass at the driver, I found seat and sat in silecne all the way. All sorts of things pass through my head on that journey... Like, what happy weekend I'll have to make up; what problems other people have on the buss, because no body lives with not even one problem rushing through their head 24 hours a day. Even if you're genuinly happy, there's something. Someone. Rushing through your mind hammering away on your brain cells. Finally the bus pulled into school, thanking the driver I stumbled off. There was only a few minutes of form left, due to my bus being late, as usual. But I still made my way there, not wanting to as I tried to delay being happy, and pretending to be that person I'm not, as often as I could. When suddenly the piercing bell rang and I swiftly turned around and stolled to first lesson, the worst out of the lott. Double P.E. 

With being one of the first into the changing rooms, I was one of the first ready. Sitting down with my socks high as possible; shorts covering my thighs and my jumper covering my battered wrists. I got asked the one question I'd been waiting for, the one question that I feared the most.

"Why do you always wear your jumper?" Laura asked, not seeming genuinly arsed.. "I don't know, it's just comfy I guess" I replied, staying in my unknown role but fearing she's thinking of a story behing my covered up arms. "There must be a reason, I will find out you know I won't let this drop" She mithered. I just laughed it off, thinking she would drop it as soon as the lesson got going. But I was wrong, she didn't drop it in the slightest. Every chance she got to speak to me during our what felt like slavoury netball lesson, she'd ask the same thing. "Why do you wear your jumper all the time?" Then follow on with "There must be a reason." It started to become irratating. On our way into the changing room, sweating our arses off after working slavery to our P.E. teachers she still wasn't dropping it, still mithering. As anyone would, I was getting fustrated which instantly made me crave my hidden secret even more. I slowly ran to my cubical to get changed, thinking it would all be over as I walked out. Yet again, I was wrong. Instead of walking out to face a nice free, empty changing room I faced Laura, standing firm with her small, pee like eyes glaring at me. I leant down to gather my things up trying not to look too bothered. But she was STILL mithering, STILL glaring. "Just drop it!" I heard someone who I can't put a name to, gasp at her. Obviously that girl knew I was getting destressed. But now, my so called 'friend' that I claim Laura to be grabbed my arm chanting "Show me whats under your sleve!" Shaking with horror thinking she would revele my deadly secret, I grabbed my arm out of her firm girp at full force, wincing with pain as the fabric violently grazed across my cuts. Shaking my head and not waiting for a reaction or answer I stormed out with disbeleif, thinking to myself 'someone who I call friend put me in that possission, a FRIEND.' I felt so messed up though. Because at the same time, I knew my role play was working. I knew poeple didn't think anything was wrong. I knew people didn't think or know I was living a deadly, life ruining, secret. The secret of self harm.

Days had passed, and my head was beaten more than ever before. Red marks had apeared under my eyes due to scraping my face with anger and desperation, using my finger nails as the tool. Each day I cried for over an hour, crying until I felt sick. Which seemed a good idea as being sick constantly meant I would become skinny, then that would be one thing off my check list to being perfect. There was a reason for my red marks though, for my several more scars that had been violently hacked at, and for why I had written 'WHY' on my upper arm. That reason was him. A month or so before I had restarted my hidden addiction he was mine. But stupidly I let the one person that made me feel like something special; made me stop my addiction without even knowing, slip away through my fingers. Actually, I forced him to slip away and this was why I had to pay. I had to pay for being so stupid, so idiotic for letting the one best thing in my life fade away when I secretly needed them the most. I made him think I didn't want him like I didn't care, all to keep in my pathetic yet needed role. After a month or so had past from our spilt.. And that's when i began selt harming again, it wasn't just because of my idiotic decission of losing him, that made me go back to the deadly drug like blade. It was other reasons too, but it played it's part. This was the begining of my role play, love. But anyway that parts the past, and I'm on about now. I'm on about my red scratches and my violent cuts.

Sitting in my usual space with the laptop I read a message 'I'm brilliant, we went on big walk together:D' it was a message from him. About another girl. My heart instantly pounded and tears began to roll. I'd never felt like this before over boy, I would never cry over someone from so long ago. So he is obviously different. I typed back with a possative answer, feeling greatful that he didn't know what was going on, he only knew what my fake self felt like.I slammed laptop screen down straight after pressing sendm and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behing me. I glanced up into the mirror and gulped. I knew, that I was unable to control what was going to happen next... Pulling my hair and silently suffering I bannged my head against the bathroom unit, not knowing how to control my feelngs. Falling onto the floor, I curled up into a ball scratching away at my face. I knew, I had let him go. And most of all, I knew it was my fault for letting him go. It was ALL my fault and I deserved pain and to suffer as much as possible, I was the guilty one. I wiped my face with towel and managed to pull myself away from the floor. As soon as I glanced at a the razor, I suddenly seemed to move quciker. I picked up my worst enemy, but also best friend and Made marks on my arm and wrist. These were the marks that took away the pain of being so useless, so worhtless, so un perfect. The marks were the ones  that bled and left scars. When my moments of releif had finished, I mopped up my several drops of precious blood that had fell onto the bathroom floor, finally unlocked the door and feld back into my room. I scanned that girls profile, finding every single thing about her perfect, even if I didn't think it a day or two ago. All I knew was that, if he found her perfect, I found her perfect. She was everything I wanted to be. but couldn't. I ripped open the dark blue patch that held my beloved needles in, slowling pressing my skin with one. I cut the word 'WHY' into my upper arm. I had so many questions running through my head that asked 'why' I thought it was relevent. as I watched all my scars and new cuts bleed, I exhaled with releif.

Three people knew about my secret addiction by that point and that was my two bestfriends and another close friend. Of course he didn't know, and I didn't want him to know either.. But on one awful awful night when I was cutting, I went too deep and couldn't stop bleeding. I thought I had hit a vein. Filled with fear and desperation I messaged the only person who was online and knew about my addction, and that was Jason. Jason was my bestfriends, boyfriend and recently we'd became good friends after him seeing my cuts and notcing my role play. I ASKED JASON IN UPPER CASE BECAUSE I WAS SO URGENT, for help and advice on what to do to stop the frantic bleeding. Jason sent me great adivice and step to step ways to stop my precious blood. Even though I liked the pain and liked seeing my blood, I knew when my bleeding got to much and I knew I had to stop it from pouring out of my 'poor' arm. Eventually the blood stopped and I thanked Jason for helping me and keeping me calm. 'What would have happened if it was a vein?' I typed, to what I thought was Jason. But with my laptop recently fucking up and facebook not being the best quality site, it sent half of my message to him as his chat was opened also. I tried to reply as quickly as I could trying to cover up and say it was meant to someone else.. 'Wait, what vein?'  he typed.  I started to shake, HE couldn't know. Out of all the people in our fucked up wolrd it was HIM, that I couldn't let know. I felt ashamed and disapointed in myself at the fact he sussed it out. He sussed out what I was doing. Not matter how hard I tried no matter and no matter how much I lied, my role play was now not working. Him and three others had now sussed out, my secret sin of scaring.