It's been a long week. Such a long fucking week and I really don't care about my language right now.
This week, I've given up all but two of my blades; started the butterfly project (and after today, I'm pretty sure the butterfly's dead from multiple stab wounds- I didn't go for my wrist though. I'm hiding this a lot better lately...); yelled at someone for not caring; somehow survived school despite being snowed in by school work; been to Mirror; and remembered why I don't like cutting then putting my tights back over them. Fricking uncomfortable, eh.
I had a muesli bar for lunch today (80ish calories) and ate it in front of my friends, and as a result I felt fat as. My friends chose then to talk about how they hate how they look- it was a huge trigger and I made some excuse so I could leave. And I ran off to cut again- spent 10 minutes hiding in a bathroom stall, carving "hate" into my leg. I always used to find the idea of cutting words being a bit.. y'know, but I did it. And there are about 20 little kinda deep cuts now too. I didn't really think about it, just did it for the pain. I don't think it through very often anymore, not past "do it there so no one will see" anyway. But I wasn't as stressed after (fuck yeah endorphins) so I managed to go to Spanish without incident. Didn't do my conversation like I was meant to and the teacher seemed disappointed, rather than mad... I hate when they're like that. :(
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Comment on my post! Please, if you feel as bad as I do (or worse), get help. I'm not a counsellor or therapist, as much as I'd kinda like to be.
pretty-please-with-a-cherry-on-top-and-a-spooon? kcool. thxbai.