Do you remember?

Do you remember when your breaking point was. When you finally couldn’t take all the darkness that you felt around you. The moment you let yourself down.. The moment when you didn’t give a shit if you died or lived. I remember it and I have the evidence for the rest of my existing life. I only cut myself on the left side of my wrist. Why ruin your other wrist. Just put the pain all in one spot at a time. Just look at your artwork of scars. I remember when the breaking point was. I promised my self I would never harm myself, but I always lie to myself. I just couldn’t take my depression. I felt like I was the only person on this planet that felt this. I thought I had it the worse and the pain was unbearable. I was taking a shower and I accidentally stepped on my razor. As I picked it up I remembered my friend, let’s call her Sarah. She cut herself when she was only 15 and I was 13 at the time. I remember the scars on her arm. I thought to myself how could anyone do that to themselves. I looked at the razor and I brought it into my room. I tried to rip apart the razor even more and I cut my finger. I saw the blood drip down. I had enough of my life, I didn’t like where it was heading to. So I cut myself, I was surprised how easily the razor cuts your skin. I just kept doing it until my arm was covered in blood. I’m not proud of this moment but I took my blood and used it as ink. I started writing hurtful things about me. I then just took pictures of it so I wouldn’t forget what I did.