In retrospect, every time I did it, I ended up making myself worse; it was a bit silly. Then there's the bloody clothes or sheets, hiding them, scars, the wounds, and more. Then there's the health risks. ¬_¬ Not even remotely worth it, but at the time, it seemed like a great idea. Most of the time, when I think about actually now doing it, I cringe. I don't have to think about the pain I'd give, or gave, myself, I just have to remember the pain someone else whom I loved very much, gave me when they did it and more. Do I wanna hurt the people that care about me? Nope. I just wish I had gotten help for it, before I had to figure out how to stop, myself. Nun ja. I guess I have that person to thank, for I doubt I'll ever manage to do that to myself ever again, no matter how much I may want to; hopefully this ends up being the case.