A couple nights ago, there was an attempt on my life by my own hand.
There’s so much pain that I developed the urge to slice both my wrists open against my will; against my wishes for the urges to stop.
Whilst the x-acto blade I had been using was confiscated by June, this time I would have done it with a knife.
My previous experiences with knives is that they hurt a lot, so I’ve shied away from using them to cut, but this was different.
With knife pressed up against my wrist, my final moments were about to pass.
I started to press it against my wrist; all I had to do was guide it down stream.
Scarlet rain would cover the floor, and then I would proceed to the next wrist, the blood staining the carpet.
June would have found me the following morning, and she would have been completely destroyed.
I would be gone, nothing more than a memory lost to the wind.
But I forced myself to stop.
I contacted Jon and explained what had happened, and he made me promise to never cut again or there would be serious ramifications.
I gave him my word.
The urge has gone down since then, yet the dull feeling to cut will always be there.
It’s never been this bad.
I hope I bounce back sooner than later.
Peace, love, happiness.
- Jaclyn
