Mama's Boy

11

Satan

(Self-harm is a very hard topic to read about, there is no descriptive writing about it, but I will be talking about it. Skip to "———" if you don't want to read.)

Self-harm is something I struggle with. It's even harder to come to terms with. I watch as people joke about their self-harm on the internet. I know it's a way to lighten the mood, but it feels so... invalidating.

Like my feelings don't matter, and that sucks.

Why do I do it? I don't know if it's because I can, or because I feel like I deserve it, or to make me feel something. Whatever it is, I do it and I can't stop.

Do I want to stop? Yes, because sometimes the pain gets unbearable and I can't take it. Although, sometimes it feels so good, I want more. It's hard to explain which is why I make sure no one knows. My thighs are the best and only place to do it. It's not though, I know that.

I trap myself in my thoughts often. Thinking about the what-ifs of my life. What would it feel like to live life as a boy?

Understanding this is difficult, being a girl. You hate it but love it. In a family like mine, you hate more. I definitely want to continue being a girl, I can't see myself as a guy.

I do like being a girl and liking girls, though. I think that's the only part.

Sitting in the bathroom of Angel's home while she sleeps. Questioning if I should take the blade to my legs.

So much has changed and I'm not too fond of it. I hate that I don't live in my home anymore, I hate that my parents hate me. I hate that my brother has no empathy for me.

When the pain becomes too much, I stop. I clean myself, wiping my tears and legs. I walk back to Angel's room and bring myself to the comfort of her arms. She's fast asleep, so I curl up to the crook of her neck. Smelling her beautiful scent and feeling her warm body, I fall asleep.

                                   ———

"I was thinking about what we could do. Do you have relatives that live nearby?" I shake my head and she gives me a sympathetic smile. "Oh! What about Izzy?"

"She doesn't know."

"None of it?" I shake my head. I've wanted to tell her but I couldn't bring myself to do it. "Okay, do you want to tell her?"

"I don't know if I can."

"Well of course you can, Light. You're just scared, which is perfectly fine," Angel's hand moves my thigh, running her thumb over it. Her gentle smile and touch present me with reassurance. "I don't want to force you, but if you decide to tell her, I'd be happy to be there."

I smile at her kind words and we shift in the bed. My head in her chest, hearing her steady heartbeat. "I like this, us."

I nod my head and smile. "I was thinking we could go out later. I don't know where but..."

I nod again. Her hand reaches under my shirt, gently scratching. I'm being more comfortable around her. Her hand down my shirt doesn't bother me but that's as far as I want her to go. I'm not ready for anything else, not yet.

Long-term physical touches like holding hands and cuddling is as far as I'll go. Anything involving me being semi or fully-naked, I can't and won't do it. Angel is a good person, I know that and it has nothing to do with her.

My body and the way it was treated is what makes me so afraid. Every touch that has a sexual meaning automatically makes it bad, to me. I just need time, is what Angel said and she's right.