I had too much going on, too much inside of me. I had to face so much ridicule. I wasn’t perfect, who isn’t? I couldn’t understand why I was the one who had to be reminded of it. Of my imperfectness. While everyone else was able to forget.

Stress amounts to so much more than feeling pressured. I felt alone. I felt so many things that I didn’t know how to react. I guess that’s why I did it. It was my only option.

“Vic, is it okay, that I’m angry with myself?”, Holly asked with a worried tone in her voice. Like she didn’t know if it was alright to say it.

“I think everyone is a little angry with themselves.”

“Is it okay that I think it made me a better person? Because all I see is people’s faces when they see the lines. When they see my past. When they realize I’m not who they think I am.”

“I can’t answer that. I think you already know the answer.”

I brought myself further down, but I’ve also brought myself up. These scars will always be a part of me. But, I’ve made them my past not my present.