The other day I was at work (I'm a tech at a local hospital) and I sent my partner home early. She was sick. As I sat in this small room by myself in my saddened state...
I took out my pocket knife I laid it down and stared at it. I was so sad and I didn't want to be said anymore.
I reached for my pocket knife and made alil cut on my arm. Not too deep and it hurt, but it felt good. So I went over the cut again... Alil blood came out. I felt even better. I was alive. So I went over it again and it bleed more. In my head I just felt better. I had physical pain about something real rather then be sad over something that can't be controlled.
I put down my knife. Cleaned myself up, and went home. My roommate took my pocket knife and asked me why....
All I could say was.... I wanted to feel alive again.