It’s not the catchiest title, but it truly is the question. If I
choose to cut, I keep what’s left of my remaining sanity and enjoy
temporary relief. If I don’t cut, then I stare at sharp objects
wishing I did, and then go through my day either horribly depressed or
insanely irate. I’ve had three failures already; I’m hoping that next
time won’t be just another failure. By the way, I’m only 16, so expect
the rantings of yet another angsty teenager.
My father (if I can even call the bastard that) used to touch me when
I was little, as well as hit me […]