It’s made me into the person that I am today. It’s a completely stupid way to cope; I’ll be the first to admit that. She didn’t need my problems as well as her own. Nobody knew what was happening to me. That evening I cut my hand in an attempt to shock her into quitting. What I went through is nothing compared to some other people. Well, one person did. Dragging a razor blade across my skin made me feel better. What I went through is nothing compared to some other people. It’s not about dying, it really isn’t. Not anymore. She was the only one that understood it but I couldn’t even unload my issues on her. But the other part of me feels that it may have been a blessing in disguise as strange as it is to describe it like that. It was fucked up and I don’t want to go back to that place again. I’ve been thinking about whether I would change everything that happened. I think that was what terrified me into quitting. I stopped before I got to that point after the phone call I got asking me how to stop a bad cut bleeding.
