Venting

It has been a very long time since I have really cut myself now. I miss the cold blade in my arm, the warmth of the blood as it pours down my arm and seeing just how much pain I could take. When I cut myself I was able to bring out all the pain, horror, hurt, sorrow and grief in the form of a pure understandable rage. I miss the release that only cutting brings. Yes I have the urges at the moment. They aren't the overwhelming urges but the subtle suggestive type.

I always believed that I would be eventually be in a place where I could retrain as a first aider and resume voluntary work. The fear of a repeat of a situation similar to Amy still plays on my mind. The way I have been and continue to be punished by people for doing the right thing. The way that we suffered and in my case continue to have serious issues over that night would prevent me carrying out my duties as a first aider, it would prevent me from doing the right thing. The first aid skills that I have will only ever be used for treating me if I need it. In others words I will never do what I did that night again, self preservation will override the desire to help and to do the right thing. <--- Saying this makes me feel like a complete failure.

It has now been over a year since I was in Ireland this Irritates me. Money is going to be very tight for the next few months which frustrates me as I could really do with a day out of Norwich. I need a hug but don't have the confidence to ask anyone at the moment, self injuring makes that worse. It is even more bizarre after the weekend I have just had. I am concerned about my arm and wrist as I am getting pins and needles again. I feel like I am being ignored by people who should notice me. I constantly tired after eating and I am concerned about work.