Questions, questions, questions.

The worst part of self harm is the questions when people notice the physical evidence and scaring.

'What is that?' 'How have you done that?' 'Are you hurting yourself?' The problem with these types of questions is that they are so simple but yet they require a deeply complex answer. They always seem to follow on with another question, whether it be curiousity or out of concern, questions like these are beyond hard to answer. I have had to lie to people I love, and have watched the doubt on their faces as I reply, but luckily, the untruth I tell them hints at them to stop questioning.

When you self harm, for me anyways, I don't feel the pain, it's a release of negative energy. I once read something that said; 'We accept the love we think we deserve'. I stand by this quote whole heartedly, self-harm is the visible evidence of the love I feel for myself. My friend once told me she was attracted to boys that were mean to her because that is what she deserves and is used to, I started rambling on about how she was worth so much more and she dserves love and is beyond incredible. Because, truth is, she really is.

But it got me thinking about how easy it is to see worth and love and potential in others but not in yourself, if somebody was to tell me what I told her, I wouldn't believe a word of it. So though the written words and words themselves last a lifetime, in certain situations, actions speak louder.

Yersterday morning, I woke up in a foul mood, I can be quite nasty to family, unintentionaly of course, especially to my mother, but I suppose it is a defence mechanism, see, truth is, I honestly don't beleive my mother loves me, not through anything she has done or said. She is incredible and has been to me, I can't fault her. But personal relationships are, for me, dangerous. I have a small handful of incredible friends, and I love them all, unconditionally, but yet they don't know me, or my story. People know what I allow them to.

So all these simple questions, build up and build up and require back stories and reasoning and explanations, something I can't do or say. Silence can sometimes be so suffocating and deafening, but it is also peaceful and our only true friends. You see, silence holds all our secrets, but never tells. Silence sees what we don't allow other people to see, and yet it never shares.

All my love

JulietX