This is my second night in a row using scissors to hurt myself. I've bled. They are a little bit deeper than usual. Not much, but enough to bleed for a minute.
And the only thing I can think of is how painless it was, and how I enjoyed watching the blood.
I'm a sick person. I want more. The stinging sensation afterwards feels great. When I showered, it hurt the cuts. It reminded me of my fail. Of how I can't beat this disease for the life of me because I am a weak, pathetic human being.
I'm too scared to ask for help.
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