"Tears of Blood"
I think I started cutting myself when crying stopped being enough. I needed some mode of expression to reflect how i felt. The vision would start and the only was to stop them was to comply. I feel the pain. Everything feels more real, or just real, when i feel the pain.
When did i turn this morbid? When did i start being a case study for self mutilation?
I'm bleeding now. Three cuts in the same ritualistic place. It's the same area, at least. It's some peace of mind to know that if things got bad enough I'd have the guts to run the blade all the way through the artery and end it all.
I dont cut over the same place twice - not until they heal fully anyway. It doesn't matter. The sting brings me a bit of comfort. The comfort i was looking for in him.
I dont blame this on him. Cutting myself is not a form of punishment. I know it's wrong. I know i need help, but i can only deal with this magnitude of pain this way - for now. I'll stop one day. I'll stop when things get better. I hate myself. I hate cutting. I hate the blood. I hate everyting inside me.
I rather hurt myself then to hurt him. I dont ever want to hurt him. I love him too much to ever want to hurt him.
He says that i should stop hurting us, that i hurt us when i cut myself. He hurts me. He hurts me so much. At least the hurt i give myself when i'm cutting is tangible and i can see it heal. The hurt he gives me just gets buried until i forget them them. They dont matter. He matters. He's all that really matters to me. Everything hurts. That's the way it is for now. That's the way it has to be for now. I have to survive this.
This is not him.
I'm alone.
Don't cry.
