Free In the Rearview by Maria Ann Green Page B

outside. I was sad for everyone. I went home knowing how amazing each of you is, and I cried because I knew what you were struggling with. Then, I realized I never wanted to make anyone hurt for me in the same way. Not anymore. So I just stopped!”
    Meagan was not only proud of Ashley, but she was also envious. She understood her jealousy was due to her want for healing as well, but it was still there, poking at her mind. She hoped eventually she could also say she was done. She softened her frown as she watched Ashley continue.
    â€œI haven’t cut in two-and-a-half weeks, and I have come up with ways to keep me from caving in to any urge. I have two friends who remind me to call any time I just need to talk. I also started painting again. I used to love it, but when I was cutting, I never made the time. Now I realize how therapeutic it can be for me.”
    â€œWow, what an inspiration. Would you mind bringing in a painting that you have finished recently as a way to cope?”
    Meagan thought that was a brilliant idea.
    Ashley responded without any hesitation. “Absolutely, I’d love to.”
    Haley no longer had her eyes cast down. She was now fully engaged as hope spread around the room like dandelion seeds in the wind.
    Ashley’s mixture of hope and confidence reached all the way to her eyes in its brilliant radiance. “Okay, now I guess I should get to the sharing part. I think I will talk about the last time I cut.”
    Everyone quieted down, and the somber feeling took over once again.
    â€œHonestly, nothing big happened like in the other two stories. I was home alone, and I had the urge. Have you ever wanted to do it just because?”
    Meagan had felt that urge come out of nowhere too, but she didn’t vocalize this. She saw a few girls nod hesitantly, though.
    â€œWell, I have too. That time, I was watching some stupid rerun in my bedroom, and I just grabbed my scissors and poked a couple times at my arm until I bled. I let the little holes crust over, and then I picked at them later in the evening to reopen them. I used my fingernails and dug a little deeper. I remember realizing how annoyed I was because I hadn’t felt the same sense of relief I normally do. I used to feel like a balloon of pressure was popped with whatever I cut myself with, and everything bad rushed out, leaving me with just relief. But that time, nothing like that happened. I felt no relief. Nothing popped. I didn’t feel better.”
    Meagan wondered if everyone’s pattern of self-harm evolved over time like Ashley’s had.
    â€œAfterward, I wondered what in the world I was doing. I decided then and there cutting wasn’t necessary for me anymore. And I haven’t done it since.”
    Meagan could see the joy on Ashley’s face.
    â€œThe next day I made a collage of all the things I can do instead of cutting when I’m depressed, or angry, or the mood strikes.” Ashley then clapped her hands together and beamed with a special declaration only these girls could understand.
    She had overcome. She had survived. And she was stronger now than she had ever been.
    â€œThank you so much.”
    Meagan gulped. It was her turn. She had decided to describe the time she had cut with a simple corkboard pushpin. She worried if she would be judged, though obviously she shouldn’t. She worried if they would understand. But she had no more time left to worry.
    She took a steadying breath and began.
    ****
    After Meagan’s heartfelt description of the sorrows and guilt-ridden remorse she went through after that specific bout of cutting, she was surprised to see several eyes brimmed with unshed tears. She was touched she was listened to and understood.
    Apparently, she had had no reason to worry at all.
    Meagan hadn’t known exactly what to expect after describing such a personal experience, but it wasn’t this exactly. She felt better than anticipated, and once again,