He told me he was cutting himself… for fun. Why would someone cut them self for fun? I was nearly in tears when he was telling me this. It was as if it was an everyday thing for him. “I wonder if I’ll cut deep enough to see a nerve, and maybe I’d be able to identify it.” He didn’t even care that he might kill himself doing it. I didn’t know what I should have said to him. What was he thinking? He told me exactly what he was doing, didn’t even bother to think or care what it was doing to me. Chocolate called me during it. I told her about it… she said he was probably just saying it to upset me. Well, if so, it worked.
When I went to bed I started crying… and I even imagined what it would feel like if it was my arm being cut. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling. I hated it. I started hating him for doing it. Goddamn him. I even prayed to God for him to be okay, and not do it ever again. He even had a good friend ‘cheering’ him on to do it. That’s sure a good friend. It just disgusts me to think about it.
Inhale.
exhale.
Today, for the best part of it, I spent trying to get through to my counselor to schedule an appointment. I was always put on hold… and then forgotten. HH [I’m going to change that name one of these days] and I were on the phone complaining about it, coming up with ideas how they could help all of the students with out them having to put us on hold for hours and hours. Finally, I got through, and scheduled an appointment. I feel achieved, somewhat.
I don’t really have anything else to say…
♥Norie
×Hates×
Violence. Drugs. Alcohol. Insecurity. Summer. Annoying people.