January 27th 2001

Today is a day like those I used to call normal. I don't feel depressed, I don't feel that I need to punch someone, I just feel that I am existing, that I am real. It's a little weird, to feel something that once was so common, in a situation like now, in between two lives. None of both is totally complete. There is one with depression, and there is one with independence, the feeling of being free and boundless, of being myself. I have been struggling to make the second one complete, and the more I wonder about my current feeling.

Sometimes I catch myself looking at my scars and I wonder if they are as obvious as I think they are. In the beginning when I'd started cutting, I once wore a half arm shirt, and to me if seemed nobody would notive the scars, that they weren't all that obvious. But they were, and many asked about the terrible scars I had on my arm. It was something I hadn't expected. What would they say now, now that there are more of them, deeper ones, dark pink streaks on my arm?

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