I am scared of everything and my only comfort is the comfort of idealizing suicide and yearning to cut and burn myself. I am afraid of an obligation I must fulfill tomorrow and I want to cut up my body so bad. If I cut I know it will be instant relief… BUT then I have to keep cutting. It’s a sick addiction – and I ain’t no spring chicken, I am a practiced and experienced cutter of 18years. I promised myself last month on my 31st birthday that my 30’s would be free of that kind of coping mechanism. My therapist is going to be gone for a couple of weeks and I am thinking this is it. I don’t have anyone to confess to – I have been dreaming about the salty sanguine droplets falling from my thighs. I taste that, I smell it, I want it to be real. What else can I do?