I will never forget the first time this happened to me. I remember cutting lines close together and they started to look like half a heart and the last thought I remembered was feeling like I just wanted to make the heart whole. The next thing I remember is snapping to and looking down, there was blood everywhere. I was so scared. I had never gone so far and I certainly had never lost time like that. I call it blacking out cause for me it ended up basically being like when an alcoholic does. I cleaned up the room real quick and got in the shower. I wanted to get it clean since I wasn't sure how long I had been at it and I was always very careful with keeping things sterile. I almost passed out from the pain when water hit it and I dropped to my knees. It was on my stomach and I spent a lot of time with hydrogen peroxide and makeshift bandages to keep it from bleeding through my clothes. I swore I would never go that far again. Of course I did (can you say addict), but the fear I felt in that moment sticks so vividly in my mind. It made me realize just how out of control I was, and was a very important stepping stone to me quitting. It's been around eight years since that, and if you look close you can still see the heart. A few years after the fact, I had forgot to pay attention and was undressing in the same room as my mom and was only partially turned around and she was like, "OMG you have a heart shaped bruise." At the OMG part I started to panic, and then it was like, oh she thinks it's a bruise. I just mumbled a yeah, but then she talked about it for days. I wished I could sink through the floor.
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God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
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