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So this is it. This is the day I've waited for for so long. Today makes one year since the last time I cut myself. I thought it would be a lot easier by now. I still think about it constantly but resisting seems to be a bit more like second nature. Well, not really, but it feels a little more normal. My scars just make me sad. I want them to go away so I can pretend to be a normal girl. But I'm not a normal girl and I know I would miss them if they were gone. I'm proud of myself for making it this far. I stopped for this long just to prove that I could. To prove that I truly had control over it all. For the past few months I have been debating desperately over whether or not I want to keep going down this path or if I want to go back to cutting. I know that's stupid and yet it seems like a normal course of thought to me. I still don't know. I don't really feel much stronger on my own but I have a really good support system behind me now. Maybe that's all that really matters in the end. Some people say that thinking about doing something is just as bad as ACTUALLY doing it. I don't agree. I think thoughts of cutting, sometimes downright vivid imaginings of tearing myself to bits, are all that keep me from REALLY doing it. So maybe I'll stick with my imagination and my friends. Maybe they can help me be ok for once. One whole year is nothing to just casually throw away. Even a broken girl like me can see that. I'm not as blind as I was before, I'm just a little bit confused. Hopefully, if I trust in the things that I have found, I can go another year. And, for once, that's what I really want.