The last three days I've been fighting a losing battle against my head. I have been crying most of the time and not even a comic by my favourite author or a Dr Who trailer has been able to raise any enthusiasm. Things got so bad last night, my head was so anxious for release, that despite not having access to a blade/knife I managed to use nail clippers to scratch my arm and stomach, I scratched my arm for release and my stomach was an expression of hatred of myself.
Today despite the continuing thoughts to damage myself further I have so far resisted temptation but the need to do it is growing along with the tears in my eyes. Stupid things can set me off, everything is totally personal. I was hoping to see someone tonight but for various reasons can't, instantly my head starts on at me that they don't want to see me, they want to avoid me when I'm like this, as a result the urge to cut grows and grows, but I really really don't want to give into it. Part of me wonders if I should post this entry tonight, whether this is an entry too far, but cutting is part of my illness and if I don't write about it, then this blog is not the true reflection of my journey that I want it to be.
It might sound silly for me to try and be positive while I feel like this but if I don't I know I will hurt myself. I haven't hidden away in bed today. I have gotten up and I have done stuff such as baking a loaf of bread, and making a batch of date slices.
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