Her Inner Strength

Self Harm

I had started secretly cutting myself a couple years prior to Hellen leaving, I took a pencil sharpener apart in my room and ran the sharp corner of it across my wrists, making marks that were more or less scratches, not really cuts.
I was finally allowed to do things and have freedom. On Friday or Saturday nights, I would go to the skate place and hang out with friends. It was one particular time there where someone, probably one of the boys there was cracking jokes about "popping a girls cherry" my blood ran cold, sheer terror filled my body as realization hit. When I had "started my period" I didn't actually start my period. I was raped. That pain, all that blood. That was from my physical virginity being stolen from me.
When I got home that night I called my closest friends and told them what I had realized while we were at the skate place. I was in my room, crying hysterically, trembling. I found some razor blades and cut my wrists, my stomach and my thighs. I wanted the pain I was feeling on the inside to go away and I thought that self harming was going to make it better. Luckily it was winter time so hiding the marks should be easy. Unlucky for me, we had to change in the locker room for gym class.
To this day, I don't know who told the counselor I was cutting myself. But, in the middle of gym class, the counselor pulled me out of class and to her office. She told me someone had notified her that I was self harming. At the time I had cuts on my arms and my stomach. She made me show them to her. Asked what happened to make me do that. I told her, about the rape, about my past home life, the conversation was a blur. I do remember her calling my dad. And then my dad being in the office to get me. A solemn expression in his face with tears in his eyes. On the ride home, he cried. He wanted me to tell him what happened. I shut down. I couldn't speak. That night, I wrote him a note explaining everything, and threw it down the steps for him to pick up and read. I couldn't talk about it. He asked me if I wanted to go to counseling, of course I said no. He didn't force me to. He should have. But he didn't.
You would think that would be the end of me self harming, but it wasn't, I just got better at hiding it.
My best friends at the time even threw my razor blades out the window of my room, that didn't stop me either. I had razors in the shower. I used those. They hurt worse but made more cuts in fewer swipes. I was hurting so bad on the inside, I wanted it to manifest elsewhere and not be mental pain. I needed to transfer the pain elsewhere.
Then, I discovered sex and sexting.