Been having those a lot today.
School bathroom, removing bloody paper towels from my wrist. The wounds sting and the blood dry. The paper is stuck in my cuts.
I harmed myself before college, wrapping my wrist with paper towels so that no one would see the blood seeping through my sleeves.
Flashbacks like these make me think about how things used to be. My Love, hate relationship with my blades.
How obsessed I really was, and still am.
It makes me think about how easy it would be to start again.
I have my blade still, hidden in a small box in my room. I think about it subconsciously every day.
What’s holding me back?
The number of days that I’ll lose if I start again. And that I would have to hide my body even more again. Paranoia as well.
I feel like I’m here, but I’m not.
I want to slice myself open, but I can’t.
It’s tough. It’s been three years now, but it’s not getting any easier. An addiction is an addiction, you can’t run or hide from it. Even if all you want, need, to do is give in.
My psychiatrist thinks I may have some degree of OCD.
I want to hurt myself.
That’s all I can say right now ..