Nothing has changed. It's just been temporarily repressed. 

The reason I stopped cutting was because my boyfriend wanted me too. I'll admit that I kind of wanted to as well, but I have nothing stopping myself from doing it but him. There is nothing for me to gain.

I feel like I'm ruining our relationship with all my stupid little mistakes. I feel like someday he's going to realize it and break up with me. I know that eventually we'll break up, but I know that it's going to be my fault. All these little mistakes are going to add and build on top of each other, like bricks, like a helium balloon, filling and filling before it inevitably explodes and the reminants come crashing down.

Sometimes I don't want to be like this anymore. Sometiems I really do want to change. But I have no motivation. I hate myself. I don't care if I care or if I dont, I don't care if I do drugs or not, I don't care if I'm broken or healed, I don't care if I live or die. 

And if that happens, if we do break up, then nothing will stop me. I will cut and burn and harm myself all the time. I'll decompose, and you know what, I won't even care. 

That's what scares me the most.

P.S. Happy two-year cutting anniversary for me.

THIS IS SUPER TRIGGERING!!!!! DONT READ IT!!! No, I’m serious. I wrote this as I was thinking and I’m not going to change it, but I know how triggering it is, so if you don’t want to be triggered than please, please, please, please, please don’t read it! I don’t want to be responsible for any more scars! but I did need to say these things.

I ache for one more cut. It's been months since I cut. And I ache to do it again. Two nights ago, in desperation, I tore a razor apart. I didn’t use it; I ended up just sobbing on my floor for an hour with the blades clenched in my fists. I was too exhausted from my cry to do anything else so I just went to sleep. Now the blades sit on my desk and I ache to use them. I’m sitting here and imagining what it would be like.

It's been so long.

But I can still picture that moment in my head. The tiny blade between my fingers and.... all I can do is cry. Because I can’t believe how bad I want to do it again. I WANT to see my skin split and the blood flow! But I can’t. It's been so long, and it has been Hell to get here! One cut and I have to start over! One cut and all of that time is thrown to the wind. Read more »