Why I hate Christmas.

No its not because its a cheerful time of year and because I’m anything but cheerful. Nor because it means I have to spend time with my family and act nice to everyone. I hate it because Christmas Eve was the day my life became what it is. Christmas eve was the day that I realized I had the guts to do what I never thought possible. The day I started cutting.

Everythings has spiraled down since. Yes, it provides me with a way to momentarily escape my enternal pain by creating physical pain, but its also born forth a new pain. The pain of life itself. With each cut of the knife I feel a momentary bond between life and death. I find myself wanting to cut deeper and deeper, to end what I have created. To end this solitary life. So many scars, so much pain. I want it all to end. So now what was once a fun time of the year, a day to look forward to, I dread it. I dread it because I know that it is a reminder of the inevitable. One day I will do what I never thought possible and watch as the blood leaves me forever.

By BleedingRegret

Rip. Me. Apart. Till. I. BLEED.