i think i'm going insane. i think i've grown addicted. i feel like i need to. like i need to drag the razor across my thigh, staring as the blood pools and falls down my leg.
no. i need to gain control. i can fight this. i need to stop.
although, i can't. i did it last night. i need to do it again.
i stare at myself in the mirror. i feel ugly, fat, and unwanted. acne all over my face, a huge nose, ugly eyes and a hideous smile.
no wonder my ex broke up with me.
i look away from the mirror and to my leg. i feel like i need to... the razor is right there... i tear my gaze away. i walk out of the bathroom.
i've won this battle.
YOU ARE READING
depressed thoughts
Randombecause we all have those moments, i decided to write this. whenever i feel depressed, or anxious, or like i need to cut, i'll write in here. nothing special, just what i feel at the moment. read if you dare, or if you care, or if you want to. i'll...
