Harming myself is my drug. I’m addicted to it.
For two and a half years I never had one night without harming myself in some type of way. Cutting is the main way though. I stopped for a few months with only a few rough nights. Then I stopped promising myself I wouldn’t fall back into that pattern but I did and now I don’t think I can stop.
I wore bare sleeves one time because I was boiling I only had scares on my arms at that point and all I got was “attention seeker”.
I noticed it was bad and thought FUCK WHAT AM I DOING when I had run out of space and had to move onto my rib cage and stomach. It really does god dam hurt to keep going like this.
I remember one time I ran down stairs with blood dripping down my arm there was one cut I had cut a bit too deep. My dad knew I cut so I told him and asked for help. My neighbor is a doctor and helped me. We never spoke about it again. The pain and shock in his face was too much.
I’m scared to look at my arms legs ankles rib cage.
I know it’s not worth it and i know that it causes me pain but honestly when I actually have the blade in my hand and I’m sitting there crying thinking about everything I don’t care about the aftermath I just need to do it. It’s an urge and a rush.