1) Sometime during eighth grade, which was around two years ago. I thought it was the only escape from all the pain and sadness.
2) My left wrist and my thighs. But mainly my left wrist.
3) Im sick of hiding it. Im tired of thinking “hope no one sees my cuts today.” I dont want to feel like this anymore. Why? You may ask. It sucks. Its 98° outside and im in pants and a jacket. Tell me why I need to recover.
4) Yes. Well, kind of. Sometimes, I dont have a reason for doing it other than, “because I felt like I had to”.
5) All the hiding and pretending im okay when im not.
6) Ths rush, the feeling of relief afterwards. the only thing im focused on is the blood not anything else. The distraction. The feeling I get, its overwelming.
7) 1. Singing, 2. Music, 3. Dancing, 4. Justin, 5. My brother, 6. zachary, 7. Cutting, 8. Drawing, 9. Crying, 10. Talking to someone who cares.
8) Im not sure..
9) Yes. So that way, one day, if i ever stop, I can look back at that picture and rip it up and burn it. Along with the rest of what would then be, “the old me”.