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Authors: Maria Ann Green

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BOOK: In the Rearview
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Good And Bad

I live my life day by day

Ignoring some

And loving others

I talk away

To a select many

Hurting feelings

And not even knowing

Life is painful

And so is love

But you can't find the good

Without wading

Through the bad

Wish Upon a Star

I stare out my window

And wish to be different

I have imperfections and flaws

They are usually all I can see

I wish I could be someone else

Anyone but me

I wish upon this star

Hoping to be loved

I wish upon this star

Hoping to be free

Pretty

I look around

And I see the faces

Of the ones I love

Family and friend

Untouched

Perfect and pretty

And all I can think is

Why am I alone

And not enough like them

Disaster

I see everything crashing

Down around me

There is fire

Flames licking at my skin

Cancer spreading

Through my bones

Black clouds

Cascading down

To meet the disasters

Already below

All of this I see

In my own head

What is wrong with me

Chapter Four

Something to try and there's no turning back

Dear Diary,

I think I've found a way to feel better. Gossip led me to find something out about one of my best friends. When I first heard I just didn't believe it. Then when I realized it was true, I got so upset. So many emotions ran through me in an instant; I was disgusted, intrigued, revolted, excited, sad, hopeful, confused.

Mostly, I just didn't understand.

But then slowly I started to think maybe if it worked for her, then it could work for me too. I'm not sure if I'm going to yet, but it is an idea. I still have to figure out how it would work for me. I know I'll be careful, and make sure not to do it too often, but I'm thinking this may be a temporary solution.

This might be a real possibility.

I won't do it too much. Besides, it's not like it could be addictive.

It made her feel better. She was hurting because she'd gone through so much, and she took matters into her own hands. Her mother had recently had a miscarriage, and she'd found out her dad has cancer. She's been dealing with more than anyone our age should. She'd decided she couldn't cope in a way others thought she should, and so she'd come up with her own solution.

If it made her feel better, why can't it make me feel better? I deserve to feel better. As much as I try to convince myself otherwise, I do believe I deserve to be happier. I want to feel like I used to. Sleeping less would be nice, and enjoying the things I used to enjoy. I want to look and be as happy as I used to be. And I think I deserve to smile more, hug more, be kissed more, and laugh as loud and as sincerely as I used to.

Happier people are healthier, or so I've heard, more fun to be around, and they look better. I do deserve to feel better, and I plan to make that happen.

My plan will probably happen sooner rather than later, because I'm starting to worry. The incident at school isn't going away, and the girls who used to be my friends are using it as ammunition to humiliate me further. I keep getting funny looks, and I've been blowing up at everyone because I'm so anxious.

I just feel lonely, sad, confused, and I desperately want to let go of these negatives. Since it helped her, then I think I might try it too.

I Did It

I started

Took the plunge

Dove right in

Now there's no going back

Even if I could take it back

I wouldn't

And I can't because

I did it

Hide

Slink away

Float from shadow to shadow

Keep away

Hide the pain

Cover the scars

Pretend to be someone else

Secret

My fingers tingle

Twitch at my side

Itch to share

The one thing I cannot

My lips quiver

Strain to keep it

Bottled up inside

I can be trusted

I know I can

At least for now

Floating Away

I feel myself floating

Above the ones I love

Further away

Higher and higher

I can't seem to stop myself

And I'm confused

I want to stop

But then again, I don't

I don't know what to do

I'm all alone

And floating further away

I just can't stop

I float further and further away

With every single cut

Silent Girl

She never talked

But did well in school

She shut others out

And told no one anything

There was always something wrong

But no one could tell

And because she was so quiet

No one noticed

Or even cared

And then one day she snapped

And I didn't know what to do

She hurt herself in hidden places

So that nobody knew

And the day she committed suicide

Nobody even knew

I Couldn't Believe My Ears

I walked into my room

And to my surprise

You were writing me a letter

And this is what it said

Honey I love you

You are one of my best friends

I talk to you each night and day

I think of you in the best way

You're always on my mind

So I have to tell you

To get you to

Stop hurting yourself

I'd sacrifice my life

I love you so much

I can't stand you hurting

And I would give my life

For you this day

Is that what will make you stop

Because if it is

I love you too much

To let things stay

The way they are today

Sincerely, your friend

As I closed the note

I bowed my head

And started to cry

You came up to me

Hugged me tight

You knew just how I felt

You knew you had made me cry

But you had needed to do

What you had done

So we went back to my desk

And I started my reply

Oh my dear friend

I'll love you more

Than you'll ever know

And I just want to make it show

I love you more than life itself

I love you more

Than I love myself

And since I do so much

I could never let you

Hurt yourself for me

And if anyone were to

Sacrifice themselves

For the other

It would be the one

Who's more worth sacrificing: me

Honey, I love you

And I wouldn't let you die

But I'd die for you

I love you dearly

Sincerely, me

Red Black And Blue

Those are the colors of my life

Mixed together

Blended all the same

One big mess

There's never been

Any other color

Red is for my blood

I shed each day

To get out my pain

Black for how I feel

Alone in a world

A dark room

Blue for all the tears I cry

No one's here to give me love

And change the colors in my life

I Love To See The Poor Girl Cry

I love to see the poor girl cry

I watch her all day long

Day after day

Week following week

Month to month

She'll sniffle and bawl

But what I love most of all

Is when she tries to stop and can't

I love to watch the lonely girl cry

The girl who wallows in self pity

The one who cuts herself

I love to watch the poor girl cry

I stare at her

And when she stares back

I realize the poor girl is me

Understand

Empathize

Sympathize

Relate and

Understand

You may think

You get me

Know who I am inside

See what I do

Or pretend to grasp why

But that's all it is

Pretend

You do not understand

Cry

Liquid flows

Down my face

So often

That I've forgotten

What it's like

To be happy

You Don't Understand

Have you ever lived my life

Spent one day standing in my shoes

If not then tell me why you say

You understand the way you do

You don't know how I think and feel

Or the way I am inside

So then why do you say you do

You'll never be in my head

You can't feel what I feel

You don't understand

Though you say you do

I love you but I need to say

I don't even fully understand you

I love you

And you love me

And that will always be

But the only things you'll understand

Are what I decide to tell you

 

Dear Diary,

Well, I did it. I weighed the pros and cons. I debated, and I finally came to a decision to try.

The first cut has been made. And a little line now marks my wrist.

I was utterly terrified at first. Right away I knew I had taken a road I could never turn back from. Somehow, I knew I had changed. This now defines a part of who I am. Even if I never did it a second time, it would still be something I couldn't completely hide, at least not from myself. And even as scars fa
de, the knowledge of what I've done is secured deep in my mind. It has become a part of who
I am
, and I'm still not sure how I feel about that, but there is no undoing it.

You cannot uncut what you have already cut.

Sometimes I forget it's there, and when I see it again, I panic a little. I've done it. I realize that's actually
my
wrist that's marked up. But then other times, when I'm not caught off guard, and I think about the idea that it was my choice, that gives me comfort. No one else decided for me. The contr
ol was and is completely mine. I've started to touch it mindlessly, just tracing the tiny line of rough skin, and it really can be calming.

But regardless of my reaction, it is there.

Since the first step down this new road, I have only done it twice more. I would have written about it sooner, but for a few days it didn't feel real. And if I never did it again, then why make a record of such a drastic decision? But I did do it again. And now, three times later, I've finally found the words to put to paper.

While I'm doing it, I do feel better, but in a way I can't quite describe. It doesn't feel like I thought it would. I don't feel a sudden rush or release as I've heard some other people do. There
was
pain. And I don't know why, but that shocked me. I hadn'
t expected it to hurt. I'd actually thought it would feel good. But it didn't. It wasn't pleasurable. It definitely hurt. Though it also wasn't excruciating, it was bearable. And it hurt in a good way, as weird as that sounds.

Afterward, I felt more stable somehow. I felt as if my feet were floundering before, and suddenly they found solid ground.

Though I haven't told a soul about what I've done, it helps to make me feel a little more in control of my environment, my feelings, and myself. It doesn't resolve the deep issues, and I know that, but it's a temporary fix. And that is an ease off my mind. Even a bunch of little temporaries amount to something when added up. Right?

Plus, finally feeling in control seems to make me feel more normal again too. When I have that control, I don't dwell on my depression as much, and I feel more like my old self before I was this stuck. I feel normal after cutting. For these reasons, the control I get is a great thing. It comes with other bonuses.

When I do it, I don't have to think about anyone or anything else. It's a completely selfish act, and right now I don't feel bad about being selfish. I never got to be selfish about anything before.

So a little selfish feels good.

However, regardless of how good it feels, I do recognize I hide it, and that should signify something. I wear long sleeves most of the time, and I remember to keep them down. I know I'm hiding it because it isn't a healthy or smart thing to do. But it's what I've chosen. And I get to make my own choices. No one else.

I'm pretty sure this is something I'll keep to myself, maybe even forever. But at least for now, this is just my secret, my own private information. I don't need anyone looking down upon me, judging me, or telling me to stop. My life and my own actions are up to me. And this is an action that won't be shared or stopped yet.

Telling someone, anyone, would only complicate the balance I've found.

I don't try to justify, but when considering the why of it all, I do have a few answers. I do it to relieve stress. I do it to feel better. I do it to be in control. I do it for me, even if I should know better and not be doing it. And for that I reserve no apologies. Right now, I am secure with my decisions. That may not always be the case, but it stands for the moment.

BOOK: In the Rearview
7.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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