It started as one. Now there's seven. I never did seven before, usually it was either one two or three but seven? I don't know what triggered it, I was doing so good but then I f*cked it up. Maybe it's bc I'm lonely or that I'm stressing over what I said to potential new friends in college. What if I messed up and said something that offended them.... Just the thought makes guilt eat at me.... Makes me feel pathetic, horrible, ugly, bad.... I hate the idea of hurting someone.... So maybe it was also a punishment for myself for all the stupid things I most likely said... Idk. But i feel better now... Numb but better. At least for a while, hopefully.

My mom wants me to get rid of my scars...But i find i really don't want too. I don't not want to wake up and not see them there on my left shoulder, on my left wrist and my right hip bone. Sick? Very, i know. My own mom looked at me like i was crazy when i told her, which i probably am. No healthy person cuts themselves, that's obvious. Or at least in my case, used too.

I stopped cutting maybe a couple of months before high school graduation but it wasn't due to my mother finding me out. Instead my boyfriend did and made me promise to never do it again, cutting my mother to the punch line. My mom found out a month after him, i believe. She didn't believe me when i told her i stopped, so i gave her the scissors i used to hurt myself. That was my second step to stopping i guess. My third had to be when she got me medicine to take away the scars...but now on the fourth step, actually putting the stuff on, i'm stuck.

I've put it on once or twice but not religiously. I hate the idea of them not being there. They give me comfort and make me feel better. Am i wrong in wanting them there?