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cutting masochism sorry about the lateness of the reply. I was late and in a horrible place this morning so maybe it was better that I do this now. At least I have work under my belt to calm me down. After spk left I bummed out horribly. got into a bad masochistic mood. Thought about all the things I used to do to myself when I was younger, all the sins I never confessed because nobody ever found them, and all the shit I hid from my parents that was never as bad as my cutter friend Nickie but it was rather rough. While walking to work I decided I should get something pierced or tattooed. I was so in the mood then because I felt like if I did that at least my pain would have a positive result. I had a half a mind to call Lucky Monkey and just get my pussy done. I have always wanted spk to do it but after my weird state last night I remain terribly in love but confused about the whole matter. I kept thinking about the scapels back at my father's house, how much I loved them and missed them even though I only used them a few times. Just knowing they were there at times was enough though. Like a security blanket. I hate razor blades and I can almost stand exacto knives but the cold elegance of surgical steel is enough to make me weep at times. A small nick here, a quick slash there, pain minimal but stinging and then the rush of red red blood pouring over your hands. beautiful in an odd way. I only did it once or twice with hidden blades that I stole from the bathroom but it was enough. once I slit myself with a scapel I knew that nothing else would hold that appeal to me. I was glad though, in another part of my mind that I didn't have any around. I knew it would be dangerous. I luckily have none of that stuff around anymore except for pills and that is a good thing. I made up some rules to memorize while walking to work 1) I will not cut myself with the kitchen knives today 2) I will not bang my head against the wall or the door or anything harder than the pillow today 3) I will not bite my wrists until they bleed today 4) I will not pull chunks of hair out of my scalp while screaming today 5) I will not whip myself today 6) I will not burn myself with the lighter or the stove today 7) I will not deliberately hurt myself today but all the while part of me was screaming to. Somewhere deep inside something wanted me to cut off my ring finger on my left hand and I fantasized about being home again and turning on the bandsaw in the garage and holding my finger up to the whirling blade. I heard the noise of machine and smelled the cat shit smell that is my dad's garage and I brought my finger closer and closer to the cutting mechanism I pondered between amputating it slowly and painfully or making it quick and complete. and I vaguely wondered where the finger would fly or whether I would just cut my hand really deeply before my father found me again. Most of the time things never got this drastic in real life but i did have a penchant for the jigsaw in shop class in middle school. the jigsaw was wonderful because it cut so lightly that the small sting was almost nothing while you were cutting your piece and drowning in the noise but then the wood would be covered with blood and I would have to get a bandaid for my fingers. By the end of most weeks, my hands would be covered in them, and I attempted to invent a nickname like Bloody Fingers for myself but it never stuck. I don't indulge often in my self destructive instincts though, I never really did. I just get them from time to time and on my walk in they hit pretty hard today. It was almost like I was going through my first hard breakup all over again. Stay safe kiddies and don't worry about me, I am temporarily out of the woods and it's a good thing when you can say: I didn't hurt myself today. Daphne |