Sometimes I wish I really knew why I prefer box cutters and thin redmslices with tiny droplets of blood, but I don’t.
I cut to feel something when I otherwise can’t. I cut when I eat too much or can’t drop weight. I cut when I fuck my life up and make poor choices. I can’t handle normal relationships so when I meet new people I instantly fear the moment they will walk out of my life. I hate it when I drop to an empty shell and can’t communicate. My mind screams with pain, yet I sit in a silent jail with my mouth screwed shut while others beg me to talk.
Person Female, age 23, began to SI at age 17