A few seconds ago I had a thousand words jumbled up into my head but as soon as I clicked onto this blank screen it seems as if each and every thought has escaped my mind. I no longer know how I feel, nor am I in control of my emotions. It seems as though I haven't been in control at all, in any aspect of my life for a while now. I have been clean for almost two months now, and that day I did it nearly two months ago I was already clean for even longer. But a couple days ago I was unable to resist the urge to take my blade, my one and only friend, from inside my closet, unable to resist the temptation to slide it across my skin and see the all too familiar red silently peeking out. To tell you the truth, I don't even think there was much temptation. It was more of a sudden impulse, it randomly came into my head and a second later I found myself sitting on the floor of my bedroom, hardly feeling a thing and yet feeling the entire weight of the world at once. I mindlessly split myself open and spilled my entire being across the carpet of my room, desperately trying to take grasp of any emotion that I could. I feel nothing and everything all at once and I don't know how to stop it. I had no reason to do it those few days ago, only my regular stupidity overcoming me a bit too quickly. But tonight was a bit of a different story. I hate myself and I know it, I'm aware of my worthlessness and it just doesn't seem like anyone will ever be able to love someone who can't even look at themselves in the mirror without turning away in disgust. I feel my first eating disorder creeping up again, just as I've tried battling the new one. This overeating has me tied around its finger in pure happiness as it happens, believing that it's okay to eat because it is necessary for human survival and that I shouldn't worry; then leaves me in the next second feeling terrible and gross. Is it bad that I miss anorexia? Seems like a prettier place than where I am now. And because of this constant back and forth between "it's okay" and "what the hell is wrong with you," the tops of my thighs are now stained red and my wrist is sore from too much damage in too little time.
I need help but do not wish to ask for it. I'm sorry I hate myself; please don't feel the same way.