I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to collapse on the floor and never have to move or face anyone ever again. I don’t want to be able to remember what happened on Saturday 8th September. But I do remember. I will always remember what I did. What I cause my best friend to see. I will always be scared of the phone call I am due to get, telling me that my GP was faxed a copy of the paramedics sheet explaining that I had self harmed in a nightclub. I can’t believe I let myself get to that point. The point where blood was running, not dripping, running down my leg, staining my dress and my shoe. The look on your face as you found me. I am so sorry you had to see that, to find out that way. I am terrified of myself. Of what I’ll do next, of how far I’ll go. Explaining to her that it’s the only reason why I’m still here and breathing. To make matters worse, doing it again and worse is ALL I can think about.