I told him that I SHed again and that I can’t bring myself to stop, despite the therapy, all the sports that I’m doing and the other things I have engaged myself in. He asked me when did this happen. I told him that both on Sunday and Monday. He asked me what triggered me. I told him that I didn’t know about Sunday, but that on Monday I was really scared when I did it and I needed to stop that feeling. He asked me if it helped. I told him that it didn’t.
He asked me about Sunday. I had already told him that I had been nervous that day, though I didn’t know why. He asked me how I transitioned from being nervous to SHing. I told him that I was not sure about it, that nothing upsetting happened. He asked me “what were you trying to cut with?” I really really really hate that question. I told him that I didn’t know. He asked me about the days before. I told him that I have felt the urges for some days and that on Sunday I finally gave in. I told him “I needed to cut myself” (he thought the wording was important). He said that it seems that I cut myself when I’m fed up with… whatever. He actually asked me “how did you feel before SHing?” I told him that I was tired of everything. He asked me what “everything” entailed. I told him that life itself. That I didn’t find a reason to live, that I didn’t know what was the purpose of living. We talked some about it. I tried to make it light, like not really saying that I would like to end my life.
When the time was coming to an end, T told me that it seems as if SH wasn't working for me anymore. I told him that only on that ocassion it didn't.