so..yesterday I had a pretty bad relapse. I wasn’t thinking..I cut my wrist. It wasn’t the first time I’ve cut, but definitely the first time I’ve cut so noticeably and so deeply. I don’t know what I was thinking, because it’s so blatant. I regretted it as soon as I did it, and also strangely, I wanted to cut more because one didn’t look enough. I cut for attention. Yeah it sounds stupid. But in that moment I just needed attention. I have been losing my mind lately, and nobody has noticed or cared. I needed to be taken care of.. once the bleeding stopped, I broke down completely. the scar hurt, and I realized that I would be getting the wrong kind of attention: pity. I don’t want pity. I fucking hate pity. I want someone to look at my scar and tell me that it’ll heal, and hug me, and cheer me up. That’s all..ugh it’s hard to look at it. I’m so fucking disappointed that I caved into my depression and cut my own skin like that. It wasn’t even hygienic. I let my dark thoughts control me. I wasn’t strong. I went against my own fucking morals. I hate self harm. if it was someone else, I’d throw their razor in the deepest ocean. Why did I think it was okay for me? That’s now what my idols would ever be ok with. I want to be as happy as brendon, as free as Gerard, as peaceful as Ryan, and as strong as spencer. This was not ok. I’ve learned from it though, the scar is a searing reminder of my actions. It’ll be alright. I’ll be alright.