damik's Diaryland Diary

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One day more

I am sitting here trying to do my paper. I have gotten so close to getting it ready to resubmit. I can't focus though, I just think about cutting. I want to cut so badly. I want to.

I don't know what I should do. This fight is exhausting me.

It isn't just the paper, at least I don't think it is. Because I think CUT all the time. It is the first thing I think of when I'm fully awake in the morning. It is all I think of when my mind goes quiet.

The gross thing is I don't want to fight it. I will, I am. For now. I just don't know. It isn't just cutting either I think about taking the plastic off the bottle I got over the weekend, the fastest method for taking that plastic off is to melt it and to cut through the melted plastic. I could do that, I could do that and I could burn myself with the molten plastic. I wouldn't get the blood, but I would get the pain.

Big issue is that I've been dissociating for the last while. Everything has a tint of unreality about it. I want to go and touch the door frame because it isn't really there and I want to see how something that isn't there actually feels. I rub my hands on my legs. Is that really me?

I want to curl up in Will's arms have him run his fingers through my hair and tell me it is all going to be OK. I want to bite myself. Any flavor of SI seems interesting right now.

12:22 p.m. - 03-04-13
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