Around some time last week I had 2 close friends get at me on AIM and ack me into a virtual corner. 
They told me i had a problem, they were afraid for me, and they wanted me to stop. They wanted to help. It took a big toll on me. things seemed fine, seemed to be going smoothly. I had cheated my way out of an arm check and passed a body check all by lying. it seemed ok. To be told that i have a problem, an addiction, something that is concerning them.... was just, big.
I had been cutting almost every night for the past week before, and some currently that week. I had scratched almost all of my right hip, scratched up the lower part of my stomach and carved 'fat' into it.  
my friend had somehow managed to see it and therefore, she and another close friend confronted me. 

I was given a choice. 
A. Them. 
B. Cutting. continue how i was going and lose everything that means anything to me. 
I made false promises to choose them, i sound shallow and stupid but i couldn't part with cutting.
I planned to continue on how i was. Continue to hide it and make them think that i had stopped. 

Just 2 nights ago Robby found my blogs on myspace. He got upset.
I had written all my feelings on cutting. What it made me feel, how mad i was at my two friends and repeatedly stating that I did NOT have a problem. Terrifying for a person to come acrossed I guess. 
'is that how you REALLY feel about cutting???? hm?"

After answering 'when was the last time you cut yourelf?', i called him and he broke down and started crying. He just let it all out. It hurt to hear him that hurt, and it hurt to know that me and my 'obsession' was the cause of it.
Last night he kindly requested that i take a picture of my forearm//wrist and send it to him so he could make sure there were no fresh wounds...to see the damage. I tried to get him to wait until today and he insisted that I do it that moment. So i did.
Taking them was easy. Sending them...getting ready to show him scared me so bad. i broke down, i was crying, shaking....everything. It was hard, because i knew it would hurt him. hurt him bad. and it did. 
we went through the same things once again, and this time made a promise. A promise that i finally feel i can keep, and i am going to prove it to him.

I broke his promises. I've been breaking them for over a year. He makes me promise not to cut, and I do it anyway.
I guess it took an extra step. Someone i care about maybe a bit more than my friends, it took this....to finally make me realize this.

I DO have a problem.
I CAN'T control it.
I DON'T need it.

It's true, and it fuckin hurts to finally admit it.
'Admitting you have a problem is the first step"

and it was by no means easy. I was in denial, and now i see.
I see just how out of control i have been, how much i have been hurting people. and just. everything.

"Does it really make you feel better? Tell me the truth, amanda."

It does. I told him so, it makes me feel better when i am hurting too bad. It takes it all away. I feel....better...after i cut myself.
"But only for that moment....right? you only feel better until the next time you ahve to fucking cut."
After i cut. i feel better, i cover it up,  i hide it. I dont even have to look at it if i don't want to.
I used to think that if no one saw, no one knew. But according to my 2 friends, even if you dont see it...they know it is there and they know. 
I feel. guilty, upset, ashamed,terrible. I realize how many people i hurt, how many promises i broke, how selfish i was. but i could get past it.


I can't now.
This is the end, finally. No more lying, no more hiding. 
No More cutting. 
its been a week or so since my last cut, and i haven't been holding up well.
I get through the urges. im really trying.

idk how else to word it, and it all sound silly and uncertain.
but i dont want to do this anymore.
i can get through it....i think.
ive got friends behind me, Robby behind me, my mother.
all there when i need them, all willing to help me quit. 

It's been 4 yrs....
4 yrs that seem so short to me, but when looked back upon...are so long.
I am finally done with this.
Once and for all.


i just wish i had the courage to throw out my razorblade. It shouldn't mean as much to me as it does... its just a silly little piece of metal.....right?
Wrong.
i won't need it. Never.