I’m having an emotionally rough day. Well really, I’m fine but my mind wants me to believe otherwise. I would absolutely love to slit my wrists right now. They’re tingling. My wrists are longing to feel a razor slide against them. I haven’t cut in quite some time. There’s nowhere for me to cut that Terry won’t see. He was so devastated by seeing my cuts last time. I can’t put him through that again.
I know he loves me. I know he does. But sometimes, I just feel like I’m unlovable. That I’m a person who should cease to exist. And sometimes, I feel like all I need to do to make myself feel better is to cut. But after one cut, I can’t stop. I can’t never stop after one because losing blood makes me feel alive. Oh fuck I wanna cut so much. I can feel the tension in my wrists. I can literally feel that a quick cut would bring relief to my aching mind. I just can’t. I’m stuck between wanting myself to feel better and wanting Terry to be happy. He won’t be happy if I cut myself. I’ll be happy, but he won’t. Its not worth it. I’d die to make him happy. So I shall suffer.