One month of not cutting.
Now I’m going for two.
but it is. It has to be.
In the past week, I’ve cut my arms, I’ve thought about jumping off a bridge, jumping into traffic, and just today, drownding myself in the bathtub. I listened to my pathetic heartbeat under the water and thought about it stopping. If it wasn’t for my mother and the fact that I’m not at home (and someone else would find me in their bathtub), I think I might have gone through with it this time. When I got out I couldn’t tell the difference between tears and water on my face. I’m a sick, sick girl.