I debated quite a bit about whether I should publish this. It makes me feel incredibly exposed. But I think it’s important for me to be able to talk about the things that I Struggle with. I wrote this post very emotionally, and I just ask that no one judge me too harshly. Posts like these are why this is a mostly anonymous blog.
Something strange has been happening to me lately.
When I was younger, I used to struggle with self harm. I was a full-fledged cutter. It became part of my narrative and a part of me.
After a few years and a bit of therapy, I kicked the cutting.
A few weeks before my first suicide attempt, just this past year, I cut myself one time again. It was a warning sign that things were going horribly wrong.
That was the last time I cut myself.
A few days ago, I had those urges again. They felt like an old friend that I had forgotten about but could so easily fall back into a routine with. I turned my cigarette around and pressed it down onto my Wrist. The emotional relief was immediate. I’ve done this a couple of times now, and I’m ashamed.
I know this is something that I should nip in the bud before it gets out of hand. I now have little welts on my wrist covered up by my watch and a heart full of guilt and disgust.
