I gasp a long deep sigh of relief. I know that this feeling won't last long and I
also know that the emotions and the feelings that I have inside will only just
build up again but here I am once again. I look to my arm, and the cuts that I've
recently just made to my arm, I watch as the blood trickles down my skin and
the feeling that I can breathe again much easily becomes apparent and it seems
like I'm finally back in control of my demons and the never ending battle
within my own mind.

I take some tissue from the toilet roll and I dap it on my open wounds. Hoping to stop the bleeding but I know it'll be no use. I mean after all I know it'll just add to my collection of scars. Before I look in the mirror and I frown at my appearance. I look tired. Nothing new there then, seeing as I always looked tired but now it was becoming more and more obvious the dark bruise like shadows under my eyes.

I keep telling myself that I will eventually get a good night's sleep but that's impossible when you work the hours that I do, I mean I've only just finished a week of night shifts, and I'm so tired. But I wouldn't just say tired as in physical. Tired emotionally too. I notice that my arm has eventually finished bleeding and I chose to open the first aid kit which I always have on hand. Knowing that if I was going to hide what I was doing, and especially to Tom then I needed to be prepared. He wouldn't want to know me, or be with me, if he knew what a damaged messed up worthless piece I am.

If he saw my scars he would run a mile and I would be back to being on my own again. Maybe that would be good for me? Who knows? Before I clean my newly fresh wounds, wrapping them in a bandage before I place on my top again and I close the first aid kit. I close the kit and I wrap my 'tools' as I had begun to call them away in a sheet of tissue paper. I leave a trace of my blood on one of them. Just as a reminder that I've slipped off the tracks again.

And I'm back to square one. You see I tell myself that I won't slip that low again, that I won't allow the urges or the temptation that follows to overpower me again. But it always wins. Because these emotions that I struggle with every single day, become too much and the only way I feel as if I can deal with those emotions is by doing this to myself.

You see I used to be in the army and I could deal with seeing my colleagues have their hands, arms and legs blown off. And mange to work in that situation but here I was, working in an ED and I couldn't even deal with the slightest bit of emotion. And it was ridiculous, I felt ridiculous. I mean I was supposed to handle everything going on but I couldn't this.

There was a knock on the door and I brought myself out of my thoughts because it wasn't going to do me any favours. Beating myself up like I was. But I was already there.

I knew that Tom would be at the door, we were both working the same shifts today and I sighed to myself. I knew that he had been very patient with me. Wanting to take our relationship to the next stage. But I just wasn't ready. I was embarrassed by my scars. He wouldn't want to know if he could see me. Without any scrubs on.

Because of my scars. I was self-conscious about my body not because of Tom seeing and having his preying eyes glaring at my endless scars but because none of my colleagues were aware of my problem, my problem that was fast becoming serious and I really had no idea how to stop it.

Once I was ready for work and I had kept Tom waiting longer then I should have done. I slipped into my coat and slipped my bag onto my shoulder and I answered the door. "You know it's rude to keep a man waiting" he said smiling at me and I just glared at him.

"Sam, is everything okay?" he said looking at me. And I nodded weakly "everything's fine" I tell him and he nods. "We're going to be late if we don't get a move on "he said and he held out my hand. Hoping I would take it.

I sighed before I slipped my hand into his and we walked to work. In a mere comfortable silence which I enjoyed and we made it to the ED. Headed to change into our scrubs. Tom undid his locker which was next to mine. He took his out and began to change, which I took mine out choosing the change into the toilets again. I knew that this annoyed Tom but it wasn't his fault. I just didn't want him to see the full extent of how ugly my body was.

I closed my locker, clutching my scrubs in my hands. "I'll be back in a moment. I'm going to change in the toilets. "I tell him and Tom nods. "Nothing new there, then. Sam if I didn't know any better I would say you had something to hide" Tom said and I shook my head. "Why would I have anything to hide? I just don't like changing in front of people. It makes me self-conscious " I tell him and I leave and head in direction of the toilets to change into my scrubs. I knew deep down that I couldn't keep putting Tom off. He wasn't going to stay patient forever. But I had no idea. Where to start with my problem or even worse. How he would react.

Okay Guys as you may have guessed that yes this story is about self-harm. It is written from my own personal experiences and I wanted to share it. I will try to make the story my own, and tell it in my own words. i understand if you wouldn't like to read. Or whatever. But I would admire any reviews as always.

I do not own the characters. They belong to the BBC. Everything else is my own and the story.

Thanks.

Bob.