Razor

People have often said that those who cut themselves do it for attention...well, they're wrong. I should know. Personally, I'd rather just do it and keep it to myself...in fact most of the time that's what I do. I do it to release pain, anger, stress...whatever intense feeling I have at the time that I can not handle. I do it to just "feel" something at times...when I'm not sure that I really am still alive. I used to punch things when I would get angry, now I just cut myself a few times and I "feel" better. I used to cry when I was sad or angry, now I just cut and it all goes away. Doctors will say it's how I "cope"...ok, maybe they're right. I definitely don't do it for attention though. In fact I have a routine...I go to a quiet spot (not always the same place) and try to relax on my own, if I'm not able to I pull out my razor (which I keep hidden) and I cut my wrist twice, if that doesn't help I cut two more times...I do it in twos until I "feel" better, when I'm done I hide the razor, go into the bathroom clean my wrist and bandage it.....then I continue on with my day/evening. No one knows but me. Because I wear long sleeves, no one ever realizes if/when I've cut. No one has to. Not that anyone would care.

I know that there are other ways to cope with emotions. But the way I was raised...I'm not supposed to show emotion. No one cares about my problems or how I feel. My problems are my own and I have to deal with them on my own. If I can't figure out how to I just have to suck it up and keep on going. There are times though that I'm not sure how much more I can handle. I can't sleep...I'm clinging to my mask, hoping no one sees through it...I need to get through this move.

I want to get away from this life...
it's not worth living it anymore....

I've already pulled the razor out more than once since being back here...it's starting to not hurt anymore. But seeing the blood flow down my arm helps me realize that I am still alive. I've had to cut more often to "feel" anything lately. I don't care what people think. I'm surviving this "life" that's not worth living...They don't know the hurt I feel. They don't live through the flashbacks I have. If they did they would agree, my life is worthless...I continue to live for my daughter. She's the only thing I have left to live for.

For now....

I live for her.