Flashback: Bloody Tears. From Lizzie's
point of view.
After another long horrible day at school I had arrived home upset as usual. That Miranda is such a bitch. She's worse than Kate or Claire at times. Its almost scary to think that I used to be best friends with her. That I used to confide in her about everything. Tell her all my most private secrets. Now I can't tell her anything. I no longer have any friends and I don't have any family to talk to about my unhappiness. I don't even keep a diary anymore since Miranda stole my last one in order to crash my reputation. Anything that bothers me I keep bottled up inside.
I feel like every time my mother ignores me or someone at school bothers me that I'm being eaten. Like my insides are slowly being eaten. Being eaten like this feels painful. Very painful. Not physically but emotionally. I actually wish that the pain was physical. Because physical pain hurts for a little while. It hurts or burns or even stings. Sometimes it bleeds and leaves a mark or a bruise or a scar. But eventually the pain going away. It stops bleeding and usually the mark, bruise, or scar will eventually fade away. But emotional pain doesn't go away that easily. It stays inside of you and eats at you forever.
At least mine does, I thought as I climbed the steps to my bedroom. I was trying hard to hold in my tears. My tears of pain. I opened my bedroom door and sat down on my bed. I looked at the floor still trying to hold in my tears. Suddenly I bursted into hysterical tears. I cried into my pillow. I cried for at least a half hour. I finally ran out of tears even though I still felt like crying. I got up and walked over to my bedroom mirror. I hated the person I saw in that mirror. I thought that she was the ugliest, stupidest, most worthless person ever. I couldn't believe that the person in the mirror, the person who was staring unhappily back at me was me.
I walked away from the mirror tired of looking at her. She was just getting me more upset than I already was. I didn't need to get more upset. I walked into the bathroom and started to run myself a bath. I was rummaging around the linen closet looking for shampoo when suddenly being as stupid and clumsy as I am I knocked over one of the middle shelves. I was picking up the stuff that had fallen off the shelf when I noticed it. The shiny, new, never used razor. I had heard somewhere that cutting sometimes releases emotional pain that a person feels. Being at the condition that I was in I was willing to try anything to release the emotional pain that I was feeling. I was afraid that if I cut my arm though that someone would see the cut. So instead I rolled up my jeans and cut my leg.
I sighed in relief as I felt blood begin to leak slowly out of my leg. It was a small cut hardly visible but even a small cut like that felt really really good. It felt like the bleeding I was doing was somehow a substitute for the crying I did. The tears that I cried were bloody instead of watery and they leaked from the leg instead of from the eyes. When I let the bloody tears flow from my small cuts I felt pain rush quickly out of me. It rushed out of me much quicker then it would have if I cried it out the way most people do. I suddenly felt calm relaxed even. I felt better than I had in a long time. I put the razor to my leg and pressed in harder though this time. The blood flowed much more quickly than it had before with the first cut.
I cleaned up both cuts than took my bath and headed back to my room to get ready for bed. I felt great but in a different way than I was used to feeling great in. I had my own little way of releasing pain. My own little secret way. It was so much quicker and easier than crying or getting angry. It released so much pain and torment that I had been feeling for so very long. It released it in the two small simple cuts. Cuts that I was sure that I could easily hide. It wasn't like if I was hiding an eating disorder or something. It would be very dangerous to do that. All I was doing was giving myself a little cut to make the pain stop. A few little cuts aren't going to kill me. In my opinion those few cuts were actually heping me feel better.
I couldn't even believe that cutting is made out to be such a huge deal. I don't get the big fuss over it. I shouldn't worry over it because there are people out there who are abusing their bodies much worse than I'm abusing mine. They are starving their bodies or throwing up their food in order to look skinny. They are doing drugs or smoking cigarettes. I am eating normal meals and I'm not throwing up my food after I eat it. I'm not on drugs or smoking cigarettes so why should I worry about it. People in this world are so friggen neurotic. They worry over the littlest or stupidest of things things that I hardly see as a problem.
I went to my bedroom and got changed into one my favorite nightgowns. I went back into the bathroom where I brushed my teeth, washed my face and went back to my bedroom. I opened my top night table drawer and looked at the used razor that I had just put in it when I came in to get changed. It was the one that I had used to cut my leg earlier. I smiled in relief as I closed the drawer. Who knew that something like one or two razor cuts could bring so much relief. That it could make me feel calm and happy. That it could make the tears stop flowing from my eyes. That the anger that I had could quickly vanish. That for the very first time in months I could feel pain drift right out of me leaving me completely painless.
I fell asleep smiling that night feeling relaxed and happy. Feeling a wonderful, warm hearted feeling deep inside of me something that I couldn't feel when I went to sleep yesterday night or the night before that or any night for months now. There was a better feeling that I could now feel every single night right before I went to sleep. The feeling of actual relief inside of me. The feeling that I was emotionally ok. That was one of the greatest most comforting feelings that I have ever felt inside of me before. I was going to be happier tomorrow no matter what Miranda or Kate or anyone else felt of me. I was going to be happy because I felt that for once I was in control of something in my life more specifically of my thoughts and emotions.
It took me a very long time to realize that I wasn't in control of anything at all in my life, especially not of my thoughts and emotions. I haven't been in such a long time. Unfortunately by the time I actually realized that I wasn't in control of them it was much too late to tell anybody about it.
After another long horrible day at school I had arrived home upset as usual. That Miranda is such a bitch. She's worse than Kate or Claire at times. Its almost scary to think that I used to be best friends with her. That I used to confide in her about everything. Tell her all my most private secrets. Now I can't tell her anything. I no longer have any friends and I don't have any family to talk to about my unhappiness. I don't even keep a diary anymore since Miranda stole my last one in order to crash my reputation. Anything that bothers me I keep bottled up inside.
I feel like every time my mother ignores me or someone at school bothers me that I'm being eaten. Like my insides are slowly being eaten. Being eaten like this feels painful. Very painful. Not physically but emotionally. I actually wish that the pain was physical. Because physical pain hurts for a little while. It hurts or burns or even stings. Sometimes it bleeds and leaves a mark or a bruise or a scar. But eventually the pain going away. It stops bleeding and usually the mark, bruise, or scar will eventually fade away. But emotional pain doesn't go away that easily. It stays inside of you and eats at you forever.
At least mine does, I thought as I climbed the steps to my bedroom. I was trying hard to hold in my tears. My tears of pain. I opened my bedroom door and sat down on my bed. I looked at the floor still trying to hold in my tears. Suddenly I bursted into hysterical tears. I cried into my pillow. I cried for at least a half hour. I finally ran out of tears even though I still felt like crying. I got up and walked over to my bedroom mirror. I hated the person I saw in that mirror. I thought that she was the ugliest, stupidest, most worthless person ever. I couldn't believe that the person in the mirror, the person who was staring unhappily back at me was me.
I walked away from the mirror tired of looking at her. She was just getting me more upset than I already was. I didn't need to get more upset. I walked into the bathroom and started to run myself a bath. I was rummaging around the linen closet looking for shampoo when suddenly being as stupid and clumsy as I am I knocked over one of the middle shelves. I was picking up the stuff that had fallen off the shelf when I noticed it. The shiny, new, never used razor. I had heard somewhere that cutting sometimes releases emotional pain that a person feels. Being at the condition that I was in I was willing to try anything to release the emotional pain that I was feeling. I was afraid that if I cut my arm though that someone would see the cut. So instead I rolled up my jeans and cut my leg.
I sighed in relief as I felt blood begin to leak slowly out of my leg. It was a small cut hardly visible but even a small cut like that felt really really good. It felt like the bleeding I was doing was somehow a substitute for the crying I did. The tears that I cried were bloody instead of watery and they leaked from the leg instead of from the eyes. When I let the bloody tears flow from my small cuts I felt pain rush quickly out of me. It rushed out of me much quicker then it would have if I cried it out the way most people do. I suddenly felt calm relaxed even. I felt better than I had in a long time. I put the razor to my leg and pressed in harder though this time. The blood flowed much more quickly than it had before with the first cut.
I cleaned up both cuts than took my bath and headed back to my room to get ready for bed. I felt great but in a different way than I was used to feeling great in. I had my own little way of releasing pain. My own little secret way. It was so much quicker and easier than crying or getting angry. It released so much pain and torment that I had been feeling for so very long. It released it in the two small simple cuts. Cuts that I was sure that I could easily hide. It wasn't like if I was hiding an eating disorder or something. It would be very dangerous to do that. All I was doing was giving myself a little cut to make the pain stop. A few little cuts aren't going to kill me. In my opinion those few cuts were actually heping me feel better.
I couldn't even believe that cutting is made out to be such a huge deal. I don't get the big fuss over it. I shouldn't worry over it because there are people out there who are abusing their bodies much worse than I'm abusing mine. They are starving their bodies or throwing up their food in order to look skinny. They are doing drugs or smoking cigarettes. I am eating normal meals and I'm not throwing up my food after I eat it. I'm not on drugs or smoking cigarettes so why should I worry about it. People in this world are so friggen neurotic. They worry over the littlest or stupidest of things things that I hardly see as a problem.
I went to my bedroom and got changed into one my favorite nightgowns. I went back into the bathroom where I brushed my teeth, washed my face and went back to my bedroom. I opened my top night table drawer and looked at the used razor that I had just put in it when I came in to get changed. It was the one that I had used to cut my leg earlier. I smiled in relief as I closed the drawer. Who knew that something like one or two razor cuts could bring so much relief. That it could make me feel calm and happy. That it could make the tears stop flowing from my eyes. That the anger that I had could quickly vanish. That for the very first time in months I could feel pain drift right out of me leaving me completely painless.
I fell asleep smiling that night feeling relaxed and happy. Feeling a wonderful, warm hearted feeling deep inside of me something that I couldn't feel when I went to sleep yesterday night or the night before that or any night for months now. There was a better feeling that I could now feel every single night right before I went to sleep. The feeling of actual relief inside of me. The feeling that I was emotionally ok. That was one of the greatest most comforting feelings that I have ever felt inside of me before. I was going to be happier tomorrow no matter what Miranda or Kate or anyone else felt of me. I was going to be happy because I felt that for once I was in control of something in my life more specifically of my thoughts and emotions.
It took me a very long time to realize that I wasn't in control of anything at all in my life, especially not of my thoughts and emotions. I haven't been in such a long time. Unfortunately by the time I actually realized that I wasn't in control of them it was much too late to tell anybody about it.