I used to cut myself. The last time I did it I was 17. I'm 22 now.
I made it over 5 years without cutting. When things got bad and I couldn't emotionally handle things, I would want to cut. I would dream about running the blade over my skin. Feeling the sharp pain. The warm blood coming out from the cut. I missed it.
It's like smoking. I've quit several times. But you just get a taste for it. In your mouth. No matter how much gum you chew, or patches you have, or e-cigs you smoke, you will still miss that taste. The feeling of pulling the smoke into your mouth is the best.
Tonight, I had a fight with my boyfriend. We had a really good day together, but then everything went badly after he went home and we began texting back and forth. I found out some information he was hiding from me, and it made me reconsider everything else he had ever told me. Was he ever in love with me? How could I not have seen the signs of his underhanded-ness? They were clear as day, but I was too blinded by 'love' or whatever you call it...to use my reasonable observation skills.
I started to panic. I started to cry. I could feel my breath becoming heavy and quick. I could feel myself shaking like a leaf. I was going into a full blown anxiety attack and nothing was going to change it. I left the house. Took a long walk. But my problems still weighed heavily on my back. I kind of randomly asked myself: why don't you just hurt yourself ?
So I did.
I didn't cut, I burned myself. With a lighter. I tried to cut. But all this time
Must've turned my into a pussy...I just couldn't dig deep enough to cut.
Instead I wake up with a squid shapped blister on my wrist.
I won't deny that it felt good... The pain.
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