Scars / by Charlie Francis Cassidy

Trigger warning: Self harm, eating disorder

My skin is a bit weird, some days you can barely see my scars and other days they are impossible to miss. Though some are always visible. I can’t remember when it was exactly that I stopped caring if anyone noticed them. Well that’s not entirely true, I do sometimes still wear longer sleeves in certain situations but I’ve eased back a lot.

Part of me wants to cover the most obvious ones on my upper arm but another part of me wants to keep them there. They remind me of a really tough time that I totally got through. Not that it’s quite the end yet, I’ve still got a way to go. The end of the night seems to be the hardest part.

I had a good day today, which makes it weird that I’m contemplating silly things again. It’s probably something related to being at the end of my medication or something since night is when I take it all now.

I haven’t hurt myself since before my last hospital stay, which is amazing. It’s a hard hard habit for me to break. One could say addiction even. But I’m doing well, well enough to even admit that I’m doing well. Which I don’t often do. I worry that the more I think about it the more I’ll think about doing it instead then I’ll do it. So maybe I’ll stop talking about it.

I think I’m just feeling weird again, which is very common for me. I’ve also gone and started thinking about my weight again. I’m just a bit too pleased about how little I’ve been able to eat lately due to some unrelated appetite issues. It’s lucky I can’t stand on a scale right now. I really don’t need to know what that number will be, I’m far too frustrated about not being able to go to the gym.

Anyway, I’ll be okay tonight. It’s time to try and sleep, I may actually get some if I’m lucky.