Okay. So, I know they’re not deep or the neat cuts I’m used to, but I did it. After a year, I cut myself again.

My nurse sensed something was up and she asked me when was the last time I self harmed.

I lied.

Told her it was a year ago.

The thing is, I love it. I’m ashamed of other people seeing my cuts but in reality I feel this sense of ease and hope when I see them. It shows me I’m still alive. That the world doesn’t have to know everything about me. It gives my voices something to pipe down about.

They’re not deep i don’t think (well compared to past) but they’re there and it’s something I can believe in- I’m worth something and that’s my blood.

However, I am off to the beach with a friend on Sunday, it’s been planned and I’ve bought a bikini and I’m really nervous in case my cuts make a surprise appearance. I can cover them with make up but it’ll rub off in the sea!

Idk. Idk. Dam why is life like this hard?

I’m sorry if I disappointed anyone.