The act of cutting my wrists becomes a physical manifestation of the internal pain and chaos that relentlessly torment my mind. As the sharp blade touches my skin, it's as though a temporary sense of relief washes over me, masking the deeper-rooted issues that remain unaddressed. The scars left behind serve as a constant reminder of the battles fought within, a silent testimony to the struggles that often go unnoticed by the world around me. Despite the temporary solace it may bring, I am aware of the destructive nature of this behavior and the importance of seeking healthier outlets for processing and managing my emotions. It is a journey of self-discovery and healing, a path towards understanding and acceptance, where each scar tells a story of resilience and the ongoing fight for inner peace. And so, I strive to replace the blade with self-compassion, to nurture a gentler relationship with myself, one that acknowledges the darkness but embraces the light within, illuminating a path towards hope and renewal.