I came back

I relapsed yesterday after having not cut for a year. It’s always been the same. There is a switch in my head and when it goes off, I have to cut. There is no stopping it or preventing it. Once it flicks, I have to follow through. The switch went off on Saturday after my boyfriend and I had a serious talk. It did not go well and I cried for hours. But I could not cut there. It’s bad etiquette to cut in someone else’s house. So I waited til I got home. I got home on Monday but was too tired to do anything about it. But I knew the switch had flicked and I would have to carry through. So yesterday, I dug out my blades.

 I can’t cut my arms anymore. All my scars are long  healed and are now white with age. Arms are the best place to cut, but if I cut there, then everyone would know. And I can’t have that. So whenever I cut, I cut my thighs.

My blades are dull. I just teased my thigh yesterday, made a few small shallow cuts. I’m waiting for the right time and a sharper blade to do justice to my thighs. I want what I want and I need what I need and I know that what I want and need is this. The pain, the cuts, the blood. And I will have what’s mine. I just need to be patient.

I called my old therapist today. I haven’t seen her since the fall of 2014. We were playing phone tag and then I just disappeared. But I’m not doing well these days and I could use some help. So I called her and left a voicemail on her answering machine. She called me back and I’m going to meet with her next Thursday. I’m so glad she’s going to see me again. I was seeing her at the university I attended, but I dropped out last year. She sees clients outside of the university though, so I’m going to see her at the university next week and then we’ll discuss meeting outside of the university.

Tonight I have to babysit until 10 and then I will probably go to sleep. Tomorrow though, I am buying new knives, and there will be a massacre on my flesh.