Achievement

I can't say much now, because I have to be off somewhere, but I had a little triumph over my cutting problem. I haven't felt this happy for no reason for months and months. Later!

Okay, now its later..(8:30pm-Queer Eye in the background. Fab-u-lous show). As you can tell I'm weirdly happy. You have no idea how quietly grateful for that. I was so depressed last night. Like one those nights when everything hits you and its NOT ok. And I was so ready for this, to make this a routine so I won't have to be scared of fury pr passion or drowning ever again, my strong voice came in and told me I didn't have to do this. It was such an alien concept to me right then I had to listen to it, not dismiss as mad ramblings. I'm more distrustful of familiar things rather than new things for some reason...

And anyways I was listening to this voice, telling me that if I just put the scissors down and go to sleep, that I would be able to sleep for weeks and weeks before....I have to cut again. And this got me, because I was thinking, whats the point of going through and wasting all that strength now when I'm going to cut anyway down the line? But still part of me persisted and was winning. I was starting to see that I could do other things like slapping if I absolutely have to. Drawing on your arms with red pen helps too, for some reason. Then my mind flipped out and I was imagining one of my friends dying in a car crash and me killing myself over it. I've had this same dream, with so many different people, and so many, many ways of dying I knew what was going to happen but it was crippling me anyway.

The panic was rising, the scissors were very ready, and then I just started to see myself differently. As one person. One person who will want to hurt me, and will use anything to do just that. The dream was an illusion to bring everything on top of me. I wanted to cut to make everything go away. But I realised I didn't have to cut, and all I would have needed to do is sleep. To write, draw on myself, hide the fucking scissors, and sleep. And I smiled, and I looked at this pathetic, gun metal-coloured little thing I had the madness to call my 'Scissor God' and I laughed it. I actually smiled at it, and put it away as if I was putting away some old photos of me with kinky hair and a red nose that I believed would ruin my life for ever. And I saved myself for once. For one night, I was my superman (well, WO-man) and I'm really proud of myself. I've finally done something that matters a little.

Obviously, this isn't all over yet, but I'm definitely getting somewhere. Hope I didn't bore you with my thoughts!