i want to do it again. i havent properly done it in around four years. ive done a few here and there, when it gets bad or when im bored or when i miss it or when im cleaning my room and find my book filled with my tools. but i havent been consistent or addicted to it in maybe three or four years.
and i want to do it again. not because i hate myself or because i want to die or because im sad or angry or hate everything but because when i go outside and i see other people with scars more visible than mine i just get so jealous. because they look so pretty.
i really like the ones on my right thigh because i think thats where they are the prettiest. but they are fading now, to a whitish colour just a few shades paler than my skin colour. so you can see them, you can see where they rise and fall because they are bumps, but you cant see them from a distance or in anything less than perfect lighting. theyre also quite high up on my thigh, so theyre only visible when im wearing super short shorts or a super short skirt. and i only have one or two brown-purplish ones in that area.
also on my left wrist, they look faded. white. you cant see each individual slice like you used to be able to. the ones that are close together all fade together into this large patch of skin thats just a little paler than my other wrist. so you cant tell, really. there are a few still visible on my wrist, and i just got asked about it by a 12 year old a couple weeks ago, then by a 13 year old about my thighs, but i still feel like they arent visible at all.
and this makes me feel so worthless. again, i guess.
i want to have the purple and the dark brown and the ugliness so that people can stare at me and be afraid of my skin. because it felt so good. i really want to start again. because when i do it itll look so pretty.
this is what i want to emphasise; the fact that i would bring back my old routine in order to look prettier and feel more prying, frightened, curious eyes on my skin, not because i hate myself. and it feels weird.
so because of this, ive been looking into scarification.
but to be honest it looks scary, as its more scraping off the top layer of skin than it is slicing. and ive seen a picture just now, where theres a beautiful red spiral on some skin but then the blade lifts away to a smooth red tinged rope of skin. and it looked scary.
and then also ive been finding it hard to find people who do scarification anywhere near me, and even if i flew or took the train somewhere, its so fucking expensive. so i dont know.
and researching about scarification and fantasising about my body littered with purple again has reshrouded my brain with that numbing painful apathetic cloud again that i used to live in around three years ago. and it does kind of feel good. like im revisiting my past self. like a reminder that im still in here, even if my skins faded now.
i feel like a fraud, in a way.
i took so many pictures of myself, so many nights spend sat on the toilet seat bent over myself, sitting in the bathtub as it would be an easier cleanup, sneaking it in the back of my maths lesson, in the school bathroom, in my bed, hoodies stuck to my sticky arms, showers that stung, hiding my tools on that special page
and for what? its all going now.
and it makes me feel empty.
its kind of like losing a friend, in a way. she'd always been there for me, at 3ams and at 12pms and at snack time after school, when i needed her she would give me what i want.
and then i stopped visiting her, i gave up on her. and i think she hates me for it. so now this is her version of leaving me.
but she looked so good on me.
im still in that state of numbness now, and its like i can taste the metal between my teeth. there used to be a taste when i did it. like a dirty pound coin. like i was chewing on the tool. the scent of the tool and the scent of the blood merged into one, and now somtimes when i catch a smell of the tool, innocently, it blurs into blood.
they taste so similar, metal and blood.
the taste would pool in my mouth.
and thats what its doing now. except then, it was like the taste would enter through my mouth and drip down to my stomach. now, its more like the source of the taste is in my brain and its drooling from my skull to the insides of my nostrils and to the gap between the tip of my tongue and the back of my front teeth.
if i did it now, would it be harm or decoration?
why is it bad to harm, anyways? why cant i decorate my body the way i see fit?
sometimes when i did it, towards the dwindling of my addiction, when i would think of it, i would feel blood pooling to the surface of my left wrist and hand, like it was preparing. and it would leave my left hand in this kind of dazed numbness. which im kind of getting now.
i dont know why this is happening. i think this is the most in my life ive ever not hated myself. so why am i still numb in my brain and nose and throbbing wrist and the gap behind my teeth?
