I hate every single thing about me. Some days are better than this, but today is bad. It’s been several months since I last cut- and several months before that, and before that, a few years- but on the worst days I don’t have any other choice. I can’t kill myself. It would hurt my family too much and I know that. But I feel like I am the world’s biggest failure and nothing I do is right and they would all be so, so much better without me, so I distract myself in the only way I know for sure will work. Then I sleep, and wake up, and cut, and repeat, and eventually I feel okay again. I cut because I know the okay days will come again- they always do- and I just have to do whatever it takes to survive until they show up.
Person Female, Age 22, Began to SI at 13, Employed