If I don’t cut out the rotten part of me within 3 months, it grows into a cancer that will ensure that I hate everyone and everyone hates me. It’s nearly been 4 months. “Four months clean, congrats.” No good reason to celebrate when not cutting just means I’m gearing up to kill myself. Whatever. I just need to cut soon. You have to atone somehow, eye for an eye, blood for blood. My body is a graveyard for my sins, and I need to be reminded of them. “A reminder of God’s promise” and he’s a cruel god. I’ll cut or I’ll kill myself. I don’t even believe in him, but he’s in my head anyway.