Over the past three days I have tried to kill myself twice, once with pills which just made me unconscious for a few hours, and once with a razor blade across my forearm, which caused me to loose a lot of blood, but not enough to get the job done. As odd as this might sound I feel like I am in a better place then when I did it, but the cuts are deep and blood red. As I look at them I see that these scars are never going to heal and I am remorseful, but I do not have a new found of love of life, or a desire to live, but I regret the action out of sole vanity. I feel damaged beyond repair, both physically and emotionally in a way I can't even begin to describe and I don't think anything is going to change that. Although I am remorseful for the action, cutting myself made me feel something, something that I have lacked for a very long time, but I have no idea what that is. Since then I have cut myself in different places across my body to rediscovering that same feeling. I know this is not healthy in any way, but I can't seem to stop myself, something is driving me to it, and I am scared to find out what that is and as I try to stop, the more I do it. I love the action but I hate the aftermath. In truth I have led a very unhappy life and while one part tells me to stop, the other tells me that this is the only thing good in you life now so why deny yourself, and as a result I have no idea what to do.