Butterflycharm3636
The last hope of light
- Aug 15, 2023
- 21
TW; cutting /ED
I cut again for the first time in over a year just last night, and that was it. I know that is so surface level, but in reality, I didn't feel like I had a specific reason to relapse, maybe I just had too many built-up emotions and cracked, but I don't think there is any reason at all. at the beginning of my cutting addiction, I did it to feel relief and I thought of it as if I was cleansing my body of all the horrible. and the more blood spilled the better I would feel, for a while, it was that, and for the next 4 years, I used cutting as this ritual to purify myself and my thoughts, hoping something could balance out the constant thoughts of wanting to end my life or other peoples. but now it's different, something has changed. I don't cut to cleanse, I cut because I feel a never-ending urge to mutilate my body. there is no specific reason or trigger, I just need to hurt myself, I have to.
so yesterday I cracked, I finally lost the battle I've been fighting for a year and I cut myself. I got my towels I sat in my bed and got ready, and i destroyed my arms, cutting anywhere and everywhere, reopening scars, it was...
....
...it was like the feeling you get after holding your breath, the first inhale of oxygen you take when your head finally resurfaces after floating in the mass of water for as long as possible. it felt like life.
I think that's the scariest thing about it, I kept telling myself, not to cut, not to hurt myself because it didn't feel as good as my mind was making it out to be, my mind was tricking me and I thought I had beat the game it was playing. but then I realized there was no game. my mind was right, it was exactly how I imagined it.
it's going to sound crazy but the first gash, as my skin opened up I could physically feel my body getting lighter, I was in a state of euphoria and nothing else mattered but me and the blade.
That's what it will always be at the end of every situation, me and the blade.
I'm scared. not even scared, I'm terrified. it all felt so right, so good, so okay, so normal. it felt like old me, the girl I pushed so far down into myself I lost every part with it. yesterday she was there, she was sitting with me on the bed, and for the first time in over a year, I felt okay. I felt alive.
I don't want to restart cutting daily, but in reality, I do. I want to cut every day, I want it to consume my life, because even after years of treatment, no drugs, no therapy, no music or movies, no relationship, no hobby. NOTHING.
feels better than me and the blade.
I cut again for the first time in over a year just last night, and that was it. I know that is so surface level, but in reality, I didn't feel like I had a specific reason to relapse, maybe I just had too many built-up emotions and cracked, but I don't think there is any reason at all. at the beginning of my cutting addiction, I did it to feel relief and I thought of it as if I was cleansing my body of all the horrible. and the more blood spilled the better I would feel, for a while, it was that, and for the next 4 years, I used cutting as this ritual to purify myself and my thoughts, hoping something could balance out the constant thoughts of wanting to end my life or other peoples. but now it's different, something has changed. I don't cut to cleanse, I cut because I feel a never-ending urge to mutilate my body. there is no specific reason or trigger, I just need to hurt myself, I have to.
so yesterday I cracked, I finally lost the battle I've been fighting for a year and I cut myself. I got my towels I sat in my bed and got ready, and i destroyed my arms, cutting anywhere and everywhere, reopening scars, it was...
....
...it was like the feeling you get after holding your breath, the first inhale of oxygen you take when your head finally resurfaces after floating in the mass of water for as long as possible. it felt like life.
I think that's the scariest thing about it, I kept telling myself, not to cut, not to hurt myself because it didn't feel as good as my mind was making it out to be, my mind was tricking me and I thought I had beat the game it was playing. but then I realized there was no game. my mind was right, it was exactly how I imagined it.
it's going to sound crazy but the first gash, as my skin opened up I could physically feel my body getting lighter, I was in a state of euphoria and nothing else mattered but me and the blade.
That's what it will always be at the end of every situation, me and the blade.
I'm scared. not even scared, I'm terrified. it all felt so right, so good, so okay, so normal. it felt like old me, the girl I pushed so far down into myself I lost every part with it. yesterday she was there, she was sitting with me on the bed, and for the first time in over a year, I felt okay. I felt alive.
I don't want to restart cutting daily, but in reality, I do. I want to cut every day, I want it to consume my life, because even after years of treatment, no drugs, no therapy, no music or movies, no relationship, no hobby. NOTHING.
feels better than me and the blade.
