Syvelocin
June 19th, 2010, 08:22 PM
Apparently, I joined this forum on August 2nd. Jeez, that's amazing. I can't even wrap my brain around that. I joined, and that night was the only night I didn't give in to my urges. Then the next day, my life changed forever in the loony bin.
All I want to do is slash my arms open, just for the hell of it. I want blood, not because I'm unhappy, but because I crave it. Summer is low stress, no one bothers me, I don't see any of my friends, it's the best place for me until I get to move out. But here I am, every night my thirst for blood grows, for no apparent reason.
My psychologist is going to fire me. Ha. How ironic? She's the only relatively "out there" psychologist I've met, and she's going to fire me. Yeah, I'd like to see her do that. I don't get to talk to her anymore. Yeah, I'm perfectly content being self-destructive over anything else, but to give up on me? What is running through that woman's head?
The only thing that's keeping me from slashing my veins open is the people around me, meaning figments of my mind. I know they aren't real, but they get so real for me that they're even more real than REAL people. I'm never truly alone because of them, and I'm definitely not going to cut in front of them because it'll hurt them...
All I want to do is slash my arms open, just for the hell of it. I want blood, not because I'm unhappy, but because I crave it. Summer is low stress, no one bothers me, I don't see any of my friends, it's the best place for me until I get to move out. But here I am, every night my thirst for blood grows, for no apparent reason.
My psychologist is going to fire me. Ha. How ironic? She's the only relatively "out there" psychologist I've met, and she's going to fire me. Yeah, I'd like to see her do that. I don't get to talk to her anymore. Yeah, I'm perfectly content being self-destructive over anything else, but to give up on me? What is running through that woman's head?
The only thing that's keeping me from slashing my veins open is the people around me, meaning figments of my mind. I know they aren't real, but they get so real for me that they're even more real than REAL people. I'm never truly alone because of them, and I'm definitely not going to cut in front of them because it'll hurt them...