Cutting

It calms me down. Sometimes just the thought. Running that blade down my skin again and again till I bleed. It doesn't hurt. I'm letting out my frustrations. Doing it just because I can. It's mine. No one can take it away. NO ONE. I watch the blood come out. Sometimes it takes a minute. I have to see the blood, the cut, the pain on my arm. It releases me. I know what I have done and I have trouble believing it. I don't completely understand why I had to go this far. So many cuts, so much blood. I only wanted one cut, how did I end up with so many? It's on my arm and spreads to my leg, then to my stomach, and back to my arm. It's always my arm and never my wrist. I'm not trying to kill myself just assuage the pain. I never cut on my wrist because that way I have more of a freedom to cut just about as deep as I want. I don't have the guts to kill myself. I wipe up all the blood, it wont stop! It bleeds for a good ten minutes. They start to hurt and I see the cuts themselves. The bleeding has stopped. They weren't even that deep, how can they look so horrible and painful? So much more than they are. It's all red and begins to hurt a little more. They start to become a different level from my uncut skin. I run my fingers over my slashed skin and it feels so strange. It kinds feels like I'm running my fingers over a cluster of mountains on a globe. I keep staring at what I have done and running my fingers across my cuts. I just stare for a minute. I start to regret what I have done. The frustration is gone; all that's left is regret. I want to stop. I know what I am doing is wrong the same way I know that I will not make myself stop. In the end the biggest question on my mind is what have I done? Did I really do this just to relieve some of my pain for a limited amount of time before the cuts themselves consume me and become my biggest problem? I have to cover it up, make them disappear. Months go by and this has become a weekly almost daily ritual for me. They just keep piling up. They never fully go away. They become scars that will stay with me forever. I will never forget what I have done. I will always remember the pain I went through and what I had to do to counter it. Even if the scars did eventually heal this will be something I remember for the rest of my life. The memory of this has been imprinted onto my brain the same way the scars have been imprinted onto my skin, painfully and regretfully. I was backed into a corner. I didn't mean to. I just wanted it to go away even if it was only for a little while. Now, about a month has passed with no cuts, and the problems are still there. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to handle them? How am I supposed to make them go away? I have enough problems I don't need this too! I know I'm not alone in the whole cutting and depression thing but it sure does feel that way. I also know that I'm a lot better off than a lot of people but people don't think that way. They don't take that into account when they are wallowing in self-pity. We are selfish and need time to only care about ourselves. I need time to only care about myself because with the way I feel, I am the only one who will!