Bruises and Lies

Most people are assuming that I have an abusive boy friend again. I don't a boy friend in the first place, let alone an abusive one. I had hit my forearm near the wrist, yes as self harm, and now its all bruised. I've been lying to people who ask saying I was horsing around at work. They believe me and that's fine. I won't have to tell them that I did it to myself to keep from screaming, that hitting my arm was faster then finding a blade or matches. I think I'll have to cover it with make-up today, just to keep the questions to a minimum.

Maybe I'm getting to the point where I no longer give a fuzzy rat's ass. That isn't true, I don't want anyone to know what I've done to myself. Its easier, I think. Definitely safer. The fewer people who know the less likely I am to be paraded around or "saved". I'm not dying, I don't need to be saved. Hell, maybe I do need it, maybe I do...

TWOLHA

For anyone that doesn't know TWOLHA, To Write Love On Her Arms, is an organization that tries to bring awareness to self injury. They try to educate those that don't understand and help those in pain find help they need. All in all, its a good programme. To support the organization's financial situation, they sell t-shirts and jewelry that has they're name on it. I saw one of those t-shirts yesterday and told the girl wearing it that I thought she was doing a good thing. She smiled and said that she thinks people that don't have clue need to be educated about self harm, that its not suicide but no one seems to get it. I smiled at her because, even though she doesn't hurt herself (well not that I could see anyway) she seemed to want to help.

Her mother asked what TWOLHA meant and I gave her a short explanation. Her response? "I feel sorry for those that hurt themselves. To be in so much pain that they feel they need to hurt themselves on the outside to calm whatever hurts on the inside? Such a burden."

Such a burden, indeed. Its heavy having to lie about how you got the bruises on your wrist, why you have marks that seem to have no explanation, saying that you don't like to show above your elbows because it makes you feel uncomfortable. Okay so the last one isn't a lie, more like a half truth. Many of my cut scars are above the elbow, where a t-shirt will hide it well. Still, though I couldn't tell her aloud, I did think to myself, "Thank you, ma'am, for not thinking that we're trying to die. Thank you for realizing that we are trying to live."