My friend saw my scars today

She looked at them and asked “what are these from? cutting?”. I said that they were old ones, but then she asked “why did they just show up now?”, so I said that it was because she never really looked in my arms to see if I was cutting or not. Then I just said that they were really old scars. She didn’t ask if I was still doing it and I don’t think she believes me, but we’re still talking. Which means she’s not mad at me.

She knew I had already cut myself before. But she knew I did it when I was 14. She didn’t know about the cuts from when I was 15 (well, now she does) and she won’t know about these new cuts. I know she feels bad that I don’t tell her this things, but I just can’t. I feel like she’s too vulnerable. Like she depends on me. It’s something selfish, but it’s true. She has already cut herself too, but only once. I don’t want to be an example, cause she can see I’m always fine and deal so well with everything else. I don’t want her to think that she has to hide her pain like I do. Plus, I don’t want her to get near to the feelings I have deep inside me. 

I just want the best for her. And that’s why I’m not telling her the truth.

When my mom saw one of my cuts a long time ago

Today I was just fine

I exercised, I took a good shower and I even thought about cutting, but then I said “no, I’m not gonna do that. I don’t need that”, so I didn’t do it.

I left the shower and then I climbed on my bathroom scale, thinking I had lost some weight. I didn’t. I actually gained some. 

Then, I broke down.

So I cut. I don’t know if I ever told you guys this, but I’ve never cut myself with a razor, just with any sharp object. I know that if I actually cut with a razor, I won’t control myself, it’ll go too deep and I’ll get too close to death. So I don’t want it.

While I was there, crying, there was just one thing that I could think of: that the only thing I really wanted all my life was to be thin. And I’m not. It feels like I never will be.

So I didn’t really have dinner. I had a banana and some bread. And I will NOT eat anything for the rest of the night, not even if I have to fill my stomach with water. I’ll do it.

All I want is to get thin. Is that so hard? It wasn’t supposed to be. 

I’ve been feeling like shit

I was out of town. I was partying, but still I couldn’t stop thinking about how fat I was. And I drank to forget about it, but those thoughts kept haunting me. And I wanted to cut everyday when I was gone. I even took my blade with me, but I didn’t do anything. I just felt like shit. I felt like a fat piece of useless trash. And I keep on feeling like that. It seems like I’m going to feel like that forever. And I hate it.

I did it again

I worked out today, I did a lot of great stuff that would have made myself happy, but I wasn’t happy. So I cut. Again. I was clean for 4 days and now I’m back on zero.

I got a little dizzy at first, but didn’t stop doing it. But, still, I’m doing just little cuts. Today I cut again in the same place I did before, in one of my legs. So I guess people won’t see if I keep cutting in the same spots, right? And specially if they’re small spots. Anyway, I hope tomorrow’s a better day.

I’ve got some bad news

Remember that I said I was going to hang out with some friends last night? Well, I did. It was a party in one of my friend’s house. I thought I’d be ok for the whole day but I wasn’t ok. I was a mess.

I cut on the shower before I go to the party. Then when I got there, so many things happened and I got so confused. First, I saw how much me and my friends don’t fit in. We’re not popular, we’re geeks. So we talked about that over and over again. Then my best friend saw one of those little cuts on my legs and she asked me if my dog had done it. I answered “I don’t even know, cause he’s always scratching me but I guess it was Fred” (Fred is my dog btw). And then, a little after that, one of my closest friends said he had already cut himself. And that it made him feel alive. 

Then I just couldn’t stay in that party. I wanted to go home, to lock myself in my room and to cut in several different places. I just wanted to bleed. I was feeling so fat, so ugly, so geek, so unwanted, that I needed to go home. But I didn’t cause vodka showed up. So I drank. It was the best thing I could have ever done. I drank and then I called my mom and she went to pick me up. When I got home, I was kinda drunk so I didn’t cut myself. I guess this was a good thing.

So, to add that, I’ve been feeling like shit. I’m feeling fat, I’m feeling useless, I’m all depressed. I don’t know what to do. I’d love to sit and cry for the rest of the day, but I can’t. Plus, I can’t cry right now. I just can’t. The tears won’t come to my eyes. I’m all messed up and I can’t cry. And I can’t cut cause I’m going out with my geek friends today. Well, I just don’t know what to do.

And I just hope I won’t cut today.

So, I’ve cut myself. Again.

After almost 8 months of struggle, almost 8 months clean, I did what I thought I’d never do again: I made two little cuts in each of my legs. I made them little so no one will see them. And I wanna do it again, I wanna cut again tonight. 

This is gonna sound extremely sick, but I enjoyed it. I cried when I started cutting, cause I thought I’d go back to that dark place I was, but after that I was smiling. It gave me the feeling that I was missing and I know that it doesn’t matter how many times I try to get out of this, I’ll always be a little scared and self-harmer girl. I’m fucked up. It feels like it’s what I’m supposed to be. And it really scares me that I feel this way cause I don’t know what I might do when only little cuts won’t be enough.

I just feel like cutting. Right now. And throwing up.

I wanna stick my finger in my throat and throw up so bad. I’m so fat. I NEED to lose weight. Although I have never done it, I have never threw up like that. I just want to right now. And cutting. Seeing a lot of blood coming out of me.

I just want that. I have that urge. But I have to control it.