The thing is, though, is that I was doing so well. I really
did have my Borderline Personality Disorder under control. I was doing well. I
was happy. I was healthy. Then this whole thing happened with my boyfriend on
Saturday and I guess there’s another switch besides the self-injury switch,
because all of a sudden, I’m crazy again. I thought it would pass, but it hasn’t.
And you
know what? I like it. I missed being sick. I missed the sick inner drama that
being sick gives to me. Nothing matters outside of what is going on inside my
fucked up head. I like it. It hurts but I like it. I hurt but I like it. I’m
feeling everything too much again. Everything outside my room is too big. I’m
drinking too much. I’m self-destructing with cigarettes. And in the back of my
head, all I can think about is how wonderful it will be when I cut next.
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