This wasn't the first time I had hurt myself. I had tried to commit suicide several times before, well, once really, and then after I discovered that taking whole packets of painkillers did nothing but leave you with a massive hangover in the morning, it just became routine... although each time I would take more and more just to see if it would do something. This time it was not a suicide attempt though. I did not want to die, not yet anyway, and besides, I have my suicide meticulously planned, so when I do decide to do it I won't fuck it up.

When I took a blade and ripped it across my skin, it wasn't to kill myself. It was to cause myself pain. It was to punish myself for being the self-pitying and totally hopeless bitch I was, and sometimes still am, convinced I was. It was to make myself suffer for making everybody else's life, who I touched in some way, utterly miserable. It was to hurt myself just for the sake of hurting myself.. to watch the blood gush out of my arm because I didn't feel that real anymore... and maybe, if I saw that, it would reaffirm that I am.

Do you understand what I mean? Unless you do it yourself I don't think it's really possible to...