Before, during, after
Before I start I always feel terrible. I'm usually really upset, feeling pretty awful about myself, and more often than not, drunk. I have a brief conflict with myself - I shouldn't, I really shouldn't... But I want to do it, why shouldn't I?
During I usually feel pretty good. There's a moment of tension between going to make the first cut and then I start feeling better the more I lay into myself. I quickly try to envision where I want to cut, how I want to to look. Some places I feel less interested in, and make only a couple, others I like better, and I'll lay a small flurry of cuts there. I don't totally enjoy the sensation of being cut, and I hate the way a blade scrapes against skin... But I like the pain, and I love the blood. I practically get high off of it, watching it dribble out, touching it, licking it. It feels fantastic.
Afterwards, the high deflates. I'm left standing in front of the mirror, brought back down to earth. I slowly start to clean myself up, wiping off blood and knives, putting ointment on the cuts, putting my clothes back on if I need to. The sting that I was enjoying just a second ago starts to become annoying, and the small injuries irritate me for the rest of the week. Having to look at them to care for them several times a day doesn't exactly help. I start to feel pretty crappy - now I have to be sure to cover it up. Usually I do it someplace inconspicuous, but occasionally I'll get a little too bold. I wish the scabs and scars would just disappear. I never want anyone to see them. I wonder, why, why did I do it? I know I wanted to, but I didn't have to. It felt great, but the aftermath is more trouble than it's worth. Then I start to feel guilty. About friends and family, who would be upset and worried if I told them. I don't want anyone to know, but at the same time I'm sad I can't talk to someone about it. I always feel so alone beforehand, but afterwards I feel like I might as well be stranded on a desert island. I was sad before, and now it's just worse, and also physically painful now. It's miserable, and I have no idea why I keep doing it, but I do.