After 2-3 years of a nasty addiction, I've gone 2 months no cutting. I used to think it was an everlasting cycle. It's not. You meet a person who will try their hardest to help you in a dark situation. At first, it's like, ******** off. I don't need your help. Then they prove that you mean something to them. And what you're doing is tearing them up.
And so you think of them when you get the urge to do it again. It's a reminder that you're not alone. Like how the blood would remind me I'm alive. The only pain I could control.
Anyway. I thought I'd vent on my situation right now. Tumblr is a good place for me to do that too.
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