I realize that I'm one of the most selfish and jealous people in the whole world. For example, when I want something and I work at it, I don't want to share it. This is especially true with boys. Lending money I have no problem with and nor do I have a problem treating a friend to lunch. I drive myself crazy with technicalities.

Then there are some things that make me think. I just step back from the situation and think 'Holy shit'. Today I felt an example of this.

I was riding on the bus at a guy was holding onto the pole to keep steady and he had scars all up and down the inside of his arms. I stared and stared with little though actually being processed until I realized how hard I was clapping my hand over my own scars. I looked down to my arm and saw the pale angelic like scars.

I wanted to show him mine. Tell him my story. I realized I didn't really have one. Not a reason to start cutting, but I did it anyway and I loved it. I miss it sometimes. The pain from piercings goes away after a week and I'm worse than I was before. I had my taste of pain and I liked it and I wanted more.

Average people think I'm sick. I can't tell anyone this. It's harder than hell to try to explain because when you think you've finally gotten your point across, they ask you if you've been to a shrink lately.

It's not so much as trying to have someone understand, it's more of the satisfaction of not having to carry this burden and it's satisfactory. To me, telling someone is just as satisfactory as inflicting pain onto myself. My problem is that I have to be very careful in choosing who to tell. I can tell Ariana or Alex or someone like that, but I have to tell a new person everytime that I ha(d/ve) this problem. I have to be DAMNED careful so that I won't be turned in to the nuthouse.

Therefore, if I can't tell anyone, I cut.

I can't believe that any of it makes sense. It's okay if it doesn't but I just satisfacted myself just then beyond what I could have ever done by cutting.