I have four scars on my left arm that have been there for a while. Not many people notice my scar but if they do then I always tell the same fake story.
"My friend has a cat and his cat scratched me".
That is all I would say and they would never question it. The truth is for the past ten years of my life I have constantly been living under stress. I understand that there are a lot of people who live under stress but I did not know how to cope with it. I grew up with my grandparents in El Salvador but when I was nine I moved to Arizona to live with my mom. My mom and I never really got along at all so moving in with her was a HUGE change for me especially if it was in a completely different country with someone I was vaguely familiar with. My mom and I always had problems and could never get along. There was never that mother-daughter relationship that I desired so much which she had with my little sister. During my early teenage years was where I had the most problems. That is also around the time that I found an outlet for my stress and depression. I convinced myself that cutting was okay. It was the only way I knew of that would take away the pain from my heart and concentrate it on my arm. For me, physical pain was more tolerable than emotional pain. I would be careful about cutting myself, I would make thin cuts that way they would be less likely to leave scars and it would also make them less visible. Except for those four scars, all of the other ones faded away slowly. I recently stopped cutting myself. I finally found a new way to not stress out; I manned up and started letting my friends help me through it. If it wasn't for them, then to this day I'd be isolated in my own world slitting away at my arm. Thank God for bringing people like them into my life. Thank God.
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