The worst Feeling in the world is a spot that itches so bad but you can’t scratch it. See for most people, it’s usually because they can’t reach it or metaphorically something is bugging them. But for me, that isn’t the case. Scratching myself to relieve that annoying feeling just brings flashes of those repetitive movements my scars are so familiar with. Everyone says “Scratch your own itch” but little do they know that I do. But not in the way they implied. Most of the time scratching is used to relieve that itch. And it does, for a short while. The girl that comes after is far worse and permanently engraved on my body. Is it silly to say that I’m afraid to scratch myself for relief? Probably. But knowing that my skin is filled with harmful mistakes that were the product of me needing relief just makes me scared. Scared of myself. How just a little bit of relief can motivate someone to continue such a harmful action. Even when followed with guilt. How do I know that if I start I’ll be able to stop. How do I know where the line between scratching an itch and self harm lies? Such a foolish thing to be afraid of. Yet the depth of the action and the thoughts it brings isn’t so foolish. It doesn’t look like I’ll be scratching an itch anytime soon.
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