i had to search through my diary to find it, it took a good deal of time. muddling through entries trying to remember hte flow of events in my life.

It was in the beginning of november, probably about the 8th.

the last time I cut myself, the time that left me with the gentle scars on my legs that i stare at in the shower.

for the past few hours i have been closing my eyes and imagining the feeling again. these tears have been behind my eyes since late last night and when i have been alone today i have had a steady stream of tears.

I dressed myself today in this oversized button up shirt that i kidnapped from my brothers closet a while ago. I was thinking that i could cut my arms without anyone noticing, because of the long sleeves. but i have work tonight, i will be leaving in about an hour actually. that isnt enough time for the redness to fade into obscurity. the last thing i need is soemone at work to see.
Then I thought about cutting my legs. but it isnt the same, it isnt satisfying. the blood doesnt flow the same way . . . . i think maybe i prefer cutting my arms because it is closer to my wrists.

I was thinking a little bit ago about how exactly it would go down if i were to slit my wrists today. How long it would take for my mother to find me, the trip to the hospital, weather or not the people at work would know the real reason i wasnt there. The way people would behave around me afterward, because medical science would surely save me. besides, i would never slit my wrists the right way. I dotn really want to die anymore.
At work i am sure i will be ducking into the bathroom to cry.
I dont know what is wrong with me. I cannot deal with this the right way when i am here. I need to get back to greensboro.

I move back there in 32 days. Maybe I will get drunk tonight