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There seems to be a point in every persons life where they come to a dramatic realization of something horrible. A point where they wake up and see something that they had never seen before. At which point it sank in for me, I am still not totally sure. Whether it ever sank in, I don't know if it ever did.

When you wake up in the morning and take a walk to the washroom - maybe then; maybe that is when it sets in. As you flick the switch and the light fills the room, you look into the mirror. Undressed for your morning shower, you gaze at your naked reflection - your eyes move up, and than down again, taking in the unbearable sights in the mirror. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes. Scars on your arms, breasts, stomach, and legs.

Gorgeous brown eyes - red from sobbing; a smile that could light up the room - now turned upside down. Such beautiful skin, now completely obstructed by bright red gashes.

I'm a monster.

What you see in the mirror completely dims any of the self-confidence you have left. What you see in the mirror is no longer yourself, but a lost entity trapped in a destructive and vicious cycle.

You cannot stop it - you ask yourself if you even want to stop it. It is to the point where stopping isn't even a choice anymore. You're trapped, and you cannot get out. What's the point. What's the use. You try to convince yourself that some people, as sad as it is, are born to live, be miserable, than die.

Seven long years of blood and tears.

You ask yourself - just when the hell is it going to end? What kind of life is this?

Your only friend is the one you keep locked up tight - a friend wrapped in a blood stained cloth. Hidden away like a dirty secret. They are always there when you need them. Always sharp - always ready. Always there to bring forth the blood that makes you whole again.

Is it a curse, or is it a blessing?

The curtain is held shut. As she hides herself from the world, she takes another cut.

The line between reasonable and absolutely necessary has been crossed. The sanity barrier has been broken. The water runs red. And the blade falls to the floor, as she crawls into the corner.

"Same time, tomorrow?", she says.

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