But This Is What I Should Have Said, Dixy. in And The Rest.

Because when you are so ugly inside that you cannot stand the pain of introspection, like staring into the sun until your retinas burn, that monstrosity should be mirrored on the surface. It should be visible. The world should know.

Because when you hate yourself so much that words are just confetti on the wind, too fleeting and insubstantial ever to do justice to the intensity of feeling, that hate should be written for all to see, in harsh stark lines: a very human language.

Because when you are hurting so hard that all you long for is arms around you, the simple human connection of feeling that someone cares, spelling out that hurt in your own blood tells a thousand people more about you than all the talking you could ever do.

Because we all make mistakes.

Because some people can deal with life, and some people can’t. Some people have found their coping mechanism, and it’s a good one. The kind you should choose, like confiding in others, or having counselling, or creating artwork or poetry or talking to their dog or taking country walks or writing a diary or......

Some people find their coping mechanism, and it’s a bad one. It’s tearing up your own flesh on purpose, and it’s cathartic and intoxicating and desperate and humiliating and shameful and sometimes it feels more real than anything you have ever felt before or can believe you will ever feel again.

Because although you don’t know it

yes

I do understand why people do this.

Last updated October 24, 2014