Failure to FreedomMature


One word forever etched in my once perfect skin. The angry red marks screamed out at me. They screamed disappointment, expectations, emotions that were forever repressed.

I glanced at the figure in the mirror. She wasn’t the confident girl I once knew. She was hardened, bitter, angry, weak, and confused.

How did she get here? Where did she come from? What happened to the innocent, fun-loving girl I used to be?

I gasped at the sudden sharp pain in my side.

Wasn’t this what I wanted? Didn’t I want to be able to feel again? Wasn’t this my goal?

I blinked hard trying to clear the tears from my eyes. 

How could I have done it again? After all my friends had gone through to help me. I failed yet again. Maybe I’m just as much of a pathetic failure as this scar says.

I tried to wipe away the blood, but as soon as I would get it clean there would be fresh blood to take its place.

Then it hit me. Temporary fills are just that. Temporary. As soon as one looses its strength there is a void that must be filled by something.

Unless you break a chain in the vicious cycle you can never experience deliverance.

So today I celebrate freedom. Two hundred thirty-six years of freedom for my country. One month of freedom from myself.

After struggling with various ways of self-harm almost my entire life exactly a month ago Christ set me free from the chains that for so long bound me. It hasn’t been an easy month. There have been times I just wanted to give in, but I wasn’t made to quit.

I was made for freedom.

The End

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