February 5th 2001

I have some more streaks on my arms, longer ones, deep ones. I cut again today, yeah. I'd had a fight with my dad and it upset me a lot, and I sat down on my bed, with my Latin book and my notice book to pretend I'm doing homework if someone walked in and to hide my arm behind the book, and cut. It blooded like hell, and I felt relieved doing it, as ever before. I'd never wanted to cut over other scars, but I had no choice, on skin with so much scars you don't find a place without any scar. I cut over them, I did. Oh my gosh, I can't believe I did this again, I'd thought I'd been completely over it. Still this afternoon the thought of cutting myself seemed so far away, and I doubted I'd ever be able to hurt myself, to injure my own skin again. But I did. I did. It burns, now, almost two hours after it. It burns like never before. It hurts with the sweater over it. My fingers don't tremble anymore, they were trembling all day. I even had problems getting a coin into an automat during break. But now they are still. I was listening to 'The Storm is Over Now' all the time while cutting, and I was wondering what would happen if I cut my wrists. For a moment, and I realized that it wouldn't even need a deep cut. But that wasn't completely serious. Yet, now, I find it weird that I got back to that point again that I cut. I never wanted to do that again, and again I was thrown out, weeped off my feet. Oh please what shall I do, can't someone just know what's going on without that I have to tell it? Gosh why, I'd been so far already and now that had to happen again. Makes me start all over again, all over. How could that happen. I never never wanted to do that again..

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