I was thinking about it the other day and I realized I actually haven’t done any cutting or anything for over a year!
That’s actually really big for me because I think from the age of 9 or 10 or whenever I started cutting, not a year has gone by without me doing it.
It has to be the baby. I think he’s the only reason why I haven’t gone there even when I’ve felt the familiar urge. There have been times when I’ve felt desperate to relieve the mental pain through a physical outlet but somehow I’ve managed not to drink, smoke cigarettes, or cut. I think it’s pretty huge but I of course can’t go on shouting it from the rooftops.
So I wrote about it here. My only outlet for the real raw truths about my life. It feels comforting to know I always have this space.