Right off I'm going to appologize if this is a little weird. I've had a few drinks, but I really want to get this off my chest.

My husband flat out accused me of cutting today. I haven't actually cut in probably 6 years, but because I have all these injuries he thinks I have to be hurting myself. Nope, I'm not. I'm seriously just that clutzy. The offending injury to be dubbed my fault by him is just a scratch. A scratch that really did happen by accident. Yes I've thought about cuttting a LOT lately, but I haven't. Him accusing me though really upset me. It makes me want to cut more. I mean if he's thinks I am already, why not? I want to so bad. I've been so depressed lately and it makes everything better. At least for a little while.
Most of my self injury now is more ninja. I pick at scabs and I really don't think my husband knows it's an SI sort of thing. I can't stop. I need to because it's really bad for my self esteem. I hate myself and the picking is kind of like a physical expression for that hatred.
Anyways, tonight is the first time I've thought about popping pills in a LONG time. I've had a few drinks (actually a lot of drinks) so if I take a few pills to go with it, all of "it" will go away. My anger, sadness, emptiness, and axiety can just melt away. I just need to open the bottle, pour them out, and kick it bakc with the rest of my drink. Right?
No. I can't do it. I want to. I want it to end, which is somethign I haven't said in ages, but I'm stuck. I'm no longer selfish enough to give up. I can't leave my kids. They love me. Maybe not as much as my husband, but I can't abandonne (sp?) them. They need me.... someday.
It'll get better...someday.