I draw with silver and it turns red…

I assume this is self explanatory but it may not be for some people. So let me explain. 

With my mental health issues, I have good and bad coping mechanisms. One of the bad ones is drawing with silver. What does that mean?  Simple, I cut myself. 

Why do I do it? Well, to inflict physical pain on myself takes away the pain that’s within. 

Now I know that doesn’t make sense to a lot of people, but others will understand. It helps me to feel better. I never got spankings as a child (at least none that i can recall) because it didn’t phase me. I use sit in my room and choke myself. What’s a little spanking compared to that? 

Fast forward…I’m still doing dumb shit in an attempt to cope with the battles that are in my head. Finally, I’m realizing I need help. I can’t do this alone, I can’t try fix things on my own anymore. They say no man/woman is an island…I usually always say, except for me, I am. SMH, time to let that go. My foolish pride. 

Yes I do need help but my cries are unheard. My friends are too afraid, the doctors think I’m just going through the motions. Then the world wonders why people snap?  Some of us actually do try to seek help but we aren’t taken seriously enough. 

Just a few days ago my doctor asked if I feel suicidal, I said yes. I’m still out here free, cutting myself and smashing walls. Thanks a lot doc. 

So until I figure things out or get the help I really need, my arm is my canvas and I continue to draw with silver as it turns red…