Here I am. Standing in front of the mirror, soft charcoal curls framing my face. I go into the washroom and rub all my makeup off with soap and some warm water. I get out of the flowery summer dress that I am in. I am now me.
I stand naked in front of the mirror. Faint scars line my body. I close my eyes and open them again. I look at myself again. The scars are the only physical evidence of what now is a mere memory. I am no longer the person I used to be.
I take the blade and gently run it across my legs, my wrists. The temptation is strong, very, very strong. I gulp. I close my eyes. I go back to dark nights when all I felt was an insurmountable pain. When sharp, cold blades were my best friends. I go back to when the people yelling through the doors was too much to bear. I go back to when I was drowning in anxiety. Finally, I go back to how it felt like to give into the urge, and let my pain out through my skin.
Puncturing it felt like puncturing a balloon. And how it gave way to a twisted feeling of relief and after that, waves of remorse and guilt. This addiction, yes, I think it is safe to call it as much, had threatened to ruin my life.
I remember how long the road back was. I look at myself in the mirror. The war I fought against myself is etched into me, forever. Each puckered scar a battle I lost.
No. I will not go there again. I will not give in. It is easy to fall. It is easy to bleed. What is difficult is being happy. It is difficult to love myself. It is difficult to drag myself out of depression. But it is worth it. Being happy means I can look for love. Being happy means I can get out of bed in the morning. Being happy means I can kiss a boy, a girl, wholeheartedly, without wondering whether I deserve their love. It means I can make myself breakfast in the morning. It means I can go to school without running to the bathroom stalls with a blade in my hand. It means I can study, I can dance, I can sing, I can listen to the birds twitter. I put down the blade. Even though it is hard, there are perks to being happy right?
~ Susan North edited by Afreen Zeb