A journal entry from June 10th 2010. I struggle with posting this and putting it out there. I think should I block certain people from seeing this post. I won’t. I expose myself in hopes that it might help someone to see how much I have overcome and improved with Christ Jesus on my side. There is always hope.
So I was told to write. Write what I’m feeling and what I’m thinking. To just let the words flow out of my pen. I love looking back at my writings and seeing where I have been and how far I have come , but part of me is afraid to write because I fear my writings will be deeply dark and disturbing and then to look back on those. I want to be happy I do. Part of me if mad at myself I’m not really sure why. Maybe I think the depression is all my fault? Well I constantly find myself wanting to take anger out on myself. On my arm with a box cutter. It’s hard, it’s like whenever I feel anything I insist my think cutting. Part of me wants to. Like I’ve said before the unbroken skin taunts me and the box cutter draws me and I am very much aware of its location. It sits there and stares at me. Even if it is hidden in a drawer. I hear it and feel it calling me, begging me it won’t be happy till it gets a sacrifice of human blood. It has a mind and soul of its own and they are both pure evil. It has the power to take life, to wound, to hurt, to inflict pain. It makes me want to get rid of all the boxes cutters at work and just leave the scissors out.