Have you ever seen a friend hurt themselves? Seen their scars? How do you feel when you see them?

Today I saw recent scabs on a dear friends wrist. We were just goofing off, just being silly, fighting over a pen of mine, and I saw his scabs. His sleeve fell down, and the first thing I felt was shock. I knew he was upset over some junk, but who isn’t. I joke around and call him a “moron” but I knew he was smart,

At least smarter than that.

And there it was in my face. He saw me see them and he gave me back my pen and got really quiet, and pulled up his sleeve.

Then I felt this tingling of anger. “Why?” I asked. “What’s so wrong?” He just said “A lot of stuff”

Then I got sad. I’m still sad and it’s 8:05 pm, nearly 6 hours after it occurred. I’m so sad, I feel like I should have paid more attention. He has this tingling of regret around him you know. You can’t notice it, until you shock yourself into noticing. It’s slight. But constant. That kind of constant regret, however small, eats at you. It eats and eats and eats, and even when you sleep, it nibbles on your heart and soul. A slow painful torture, and to know that he’s feeling that kind of sadness eats at me too.

I’ve only known him for maybe a few months, but when someone becomes a friend of mine, they stay my friend until my trust in them dies, or they have hurt me in a way that makes me recall those horrible days when I was a ten year old death child.

I’m lucky that my mother found out when she did. But I don’t think my friend has that option. My pain came from school then. I think his comes from home, and I don’t think he has a good enough reason to be emancipated, so he’s stuck in a situation he can’t run from, can’t hide until he can deal with the hurt. He doesn’t have the luxury I had, the luxury to hide, to rationalize, procrastinate, to hide from what hurts the most.

And I can’t give him that. I can’t do anything but BE there, and I want to do so much more! I want to fix it for him, to wrap him in a emotional blanket until he feels better, but I know I can’t because he doesn’t trust me, and I don’t know his situation.

I can’t fix what I don’t know exists. And I want to fix it all.

Just to keep my friends, my family, my loved ones from feeling what I felt in my late childhood. I want to be a Wonder Woman, I want to save them all, but I can’t. I’m only human, and noone knows what the right thing to do in these situations.

To be the friend of a self destructive person, and to think that these people are stronger than they let themselves be is the best kind of friend of all.

But I see all these people shunning those with eating disorders, and embracing and thinking people who cut themselves, burn themselves as ‘cool’. I’m not embracing one and shunning the other, they need a friend and one needs to be ready to be such a persons friend.

Not shun them! One must never shun a person who has this kind of pain.

So many people go through this pain thinking noone is there for them. I am ready to be there, to stand up and say “I AM READY! I CAN HELP! What do you need and how much?” More people must do this because if one can start some sort of support group, some chain of ways to even the load, even if it’s just a short period of time, I just think fewer people would hurt the way I and so many people have. I was lucky to have my mother, to have a sister willing to let me scream at her for trivial reasons to unload how much hurt I had felt that day, and of the realization that I had only 3 people to invite to my 10th birthday party aside from family when she had over 20.

I am ready to turn to a hurt person and take a piece of their load, even for a day, to let them know that they aren’t alone, they are never alone, we are just as good actors as they are.

Who ever may read this, I obviously trust you enough to read my thoughts, to read what I write, to let you take a sip of what goes through my head. You are a friend of mine, and if you need anything. Anything at all, I am here. And I love you with all of my heart, I love all my friends with all of my heart and will never turn my back on you. Because I never had the luxury, so I must provide the luxury to you. Because After constant regret and suffering, you can either be bitter, mean and cold.

Or

You can use that pain to guide what you want to become.

I try to be the latter, but you can’t help being bitter, mean or cold sometimes. Human nature bites you in the ass like that sometimes. You can’t be perfect. You can’t be evil either.

You just are.

You are molded into what ever you have become by pain, suffering, Joy and ecstasy of life.

And I’m not even saying that to be cheesy, it just is. Noone lives the same life. And noone lives they way you do, and that is admirable, and horrible at the same time. You don’t know where you’re going. That’s exciting and horrifying at the same time.

But Adventure is what any little girl or boy wants. We lose that sense of adventure as we see life’s horrors. Horrors that will stay with us forever. We don’t get over it. We just get numb. Being numb is not at all easy. You think you are dead. Maybe that’s why suicides and self-destruction occurs. Because since we feel dead, the rationale is that we ought to be dead, or cause pain to know we are alive.

I’ve never done either. I’m not one to be callus to life. Everyday bumps and emotional bruises are all I need to know life in me exists. I haven’t gotten callus. I haven’t gotten over it. I just dodge the pain as the experience being a “Just Is”.

Because everything Just Is. Tears are just tears. Pain is just pain. Life is just life. And in all honesty;

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Love is not as rare as you think

The life you live is never useless

People love you. We just think you know already

YOU ARE NOT ALONE (and not in the E.T. way)