Hiding Behind a Smiling Mask

A Story by Sapphirewolf

"What's that on your arm?" asked Miss Anna as she looks at the colored lines of various colors, shapes, sizes, and thickness on my left arm. This week has been rough.

I've been asked this a lot just with different.....well.....wording. "Why do you color on your arms?" "why not on paper?"etc.

So I'm telling once and for all, why I do what I do. So get comfortable, and grab your note book.you may want to take some notes.

I used to well....scratch.....sometimes till I blead. I know what your saying, me Kathryn Grover, get good grades, and can make friends with pretty much anyone that Kathryn scratching? NO WAY! Well for the most part you're right, I don't anymore. Maybe I should start from the beginning. You see my life wasn't always so peachy,I used to be bullied, no not teased bullied,mental AND physical since the 1st grade up to about the middle of the 6th grade When I came hear to parkway.

Even though I was constantly switching schools, the bulling seemed to follow, even some of same types of harassment followed. Name calling was very common because it leaves no physical scar, but it sure left a mental one.but physical pain was anything but absent it happen everyday.only I never told about those, I guess I thought that if I didn't tell, they would stop, stupid right? On several occasions my only ticket to sleep was nothing more then wet sticky, salty tears and a worn out voice box.

I remember around the time "diary of a wimpy kid" books were popular, kids in not one, but two schools started this thing called "the Kathy touch" similar to "the cheese touch" from the books. Where if a kid either touched me (except for the occasional push or shove.), or touched something right after I touched it you got "the Kathy touch" if you didn't get rid of it by touching someone else or "bumping" me so hard I fell, you got Ebola. Yea that was my life.

Around this time I really started to despise myself, I stared coming up with ways to "end it all", and I stared scratching, I was too afraid of pain and major bleeding to go any farther then that so scratching seemed to be the best option. I made my scratching devices out of penny's that i would sharpen with a nail clipper and paper clips with the ends sharpened so I could conceal them easily,I mean come on who's going to suspect those, kids carry pocket change and paper clips all the time, it was normal, inconspicuous,easy. So easy I did to from 4th grade all the way thru 6th.

So for short the reason I draw on my arms is to get myself to stop scratching. Because markers don't hurt but they give the same sensation as scratching,call it self mind tricking. On top of the fact that it does no permanent damage, it makes me feel better with no after feelings of shame.

Scratching feels like what nails on a chalkboard sounds like followed but a slight warming/ stinging sensation, at least at first, after a while your arm just feels numb followed by a quickly fledging sense of relief followed by a long drawn out feeling of complete shame, and guilt . Yea Not fun.

But now that life is great, I have a boyfriend, a huge circle of friends that I can trust and do, I still get really dark thoughts.and I am still struggling with depression and self harm from time to time. Because ghosts don't die easy and scars don't go away. Well I'm full of scars and my demons are all still here. But now I'm not alone and I know I will be ok.

I hope that by me sharing my story, if your struggling yourself with self harm or depression, know A your not alone and B it's going to be ok. I know it feels horrible right now like life is nothing more the a lightless endless cave with no end, but there is light at the end of the yes long but totally worth it tunnel. If you see any sighings of depression such as distance,long sleeves even in hot wether,o r even just strange , talk to them, because sometimes even the most hurt, damaged, broken soul, can wear the biggest smile.