I cut today.
It didn't hurt. I just stared at it. As I realized how deep it was and that I could actually seem veins. Blue. Through the giant gap that now exists on my wrist.
I ran for paper towel as blood started pooling to the surface. I got it cleaned up but it did eventually start hurting. Now it hurts to move my wrist. Hurts to use it.
Normally I like the after sting of my cuts. Reminds me sweetly. Not this time. It hurts like a
Bitch One slight movement over an inch a it feels like my wrist is going to completely open and my hand is going to fall off.
I hate this. I HATE ed. I hate him. I want to kill him. Why can't I have control? Ed makes me think I'm in control but he always has control. It's never been me. He tells me not to eat. He tells me to purge. He tells me to cut myself to punish myself from being bad being fat imperfect.
I have never felt more ready for recovery. Hearing the panic and concern in my husband When on the phone talking about the recent cut with him, it was breaking my heart. He's the strong one, the one that is always there as strong. And he sounded broken. Because of me. I can't ever do that to him again. I made a promise to him that I would never cut again. I have every intention to uphold that promise. Without him my life is meaningless. I will not risk our marriage for ed. Ed sucks. Ed needs to die. Ed is horrible.
I am ready. I am focused. I will not let ed over power me. Here's to recovery and those in recovery/recovered. It's going to be a long journey but I'm ready. I have to be.