FicWad

The scars are smooth, no longer raised and rough. They are faded, no longer a constant and brilliant shade of red. But they are still present, able to be seen by the unaided eye. And while the coloring has altered, the scars do not blend faultlessly with the surrounding skin tone. They are still a limit. They are still a flaw. They are still a steady reminder of the past.

It had once been a belief of mine that with the halting of self-infliction, shame would no longer be at hand. With each passing of time, the shame would ease. But the shame still continues to increase. It has never shown signs of disappearing completely, let alone lessening even the slightest. It is an emotion that, since the first cut, has remained the most dictating to me. It is a feeling that controls the clothing in which I wear. It directs the way in which I act. It influences every fear of mine. Shame has the power to manipulate my life, and it has taken full advantage of the opportunity.

Each time that I must glance at these scars, I am reminded of this feeling. I am reminded of the mistakes that I had once chosen to make. And now I am forced to endure through the consequences of my past. I must now wear these scars and face regret.

Numerous times I have thought to avoid this method of regret though. I am able to simply return to my previous ways of self-loathing, self-injuring. I would be able to derive an amount of pleasure from my self-inflicted pain. But with the passing of time, I begin to arrive at the realization that I have taken this route already, far too many times for my liking. The end result of this method is always the same. With each new scar carved into a clean slate of skin, another reminder of guilt becomes present. Shame adds up and self-esteem is destroyed nearly beyond repair.

And so I have now chosen to face the regret. It may be the difficult path, but the end result is the one that I have been desiring. Though I am prepared to face my scars, I am not yet prepared to allow others to learn of my past. The shame that I am engulfed in forces me to endure my mistakes alone. I still must hide my past from others, but I will no longer attempt to hide it from myself. I have come to an acceptance of it, though pride will never be a result.

I am hopeful as the scars continue to disappear. I am certain that one day the shame will begin to depart as well. With time and with scars, I will learn. I will create better opportunities for myself. Scars may be a reminder of the past, but they are more of a reminder of the future.