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I was so close to slipping two nights ago. It’s the
closest I’ve been since I stopped before the summer of 2007 – before I met
Gerard. I was in his kitchen and I couldn’t open a box of tea – the plastic. So
I took a knife from his drawer and I sliced it open. I noticed the blade was a
little loose so I took a look at it – and it all came rushing back to me. The
feelings, the urge and want to cut. I wanted to see if I still felt the same, I
wanted to see if I had gotten over it. So I pressed the point to the skin on my
hand beneath my thumb and I felt an intense rush of adrenaline. I got scared,
freaked out, and put the knife back. I ran to Gerard and told him.
He held me for half an hour, and for half an hour, I told him how scared I was
that I would slip one day and hurt him, that I think I made a promise to him
that I can’t keep. I’m so scared that I’ll hurt and sadden him if I slip –
which I know would happen. I know I would hurt him and worry him. I feel a lot
more confident now because of Gerard, but I’m still scared. My worst fear is
hurting him. But he said that if that happened, we’d get through it. He
wouldn’t leave me for anything or because of anything.