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So right, yeah. I stopped. I’ve stopped. No cutting, which is true, I haven’t cut. But yesterday I did something I haven’t done in a long time, actually two things. First, I actually acted out my feelings in front of someone else, my mom, the stress and panic came spurting out, screams,tears and all. I hated it. I felt so vulnerable, so raw and exposed. I haven’t cried outside of my room like that for a long time so naturally I ran away to my room, all I was thinking was that I needed to stop crying, that I was feeling way too much. Next thing I know I’m lighting matches and pressing them to my wrist, no hesitation, not once. Now I have three  holes in my arm. So no cutting? I must be doing great, didn’t even make a bloody week without pain.  Even better news? Debs in two days, with fresh burns on my arm, in a strapless dress, wonderful and again, all my fault.