Be warned before you read this, when I started cutting I had romanticized views of it. Beautiful red blood dripping down fingers. Now I am afraid. I typed this without thinking of where I am going. It doesn't explain the why, but the how of my start. I need help, and I desperately need someone to talk about with this. I am too afraid to call the phone lines, a human voice would only scare me into lying. I started cutting 3 weeks ago. I had grabbed a knife from the cupboard and took it with me into the bathroom. I had been taking hot baths for a month or so at that time. Hot enough that I had to fight my body to stay in. Hot enough that when I got out, I would nearly pass out. I sat there, naked, in the water as it slowly climbed up my thighs, and past my bulging belly. I stared at the knife, out of place on the side of the bathtub shelf. I took it and I danced it across my skin, watching the skin rise in irritatioin. I planned carefully where I was going to cut, putting it where a watch strap could easily hide it. It's just an experiment, I told myself. I need to see how blood flows in water, so I can better illustrate it. That first night I didn't draw blood. The second night didn't result in any either. The knifes weren't working. That third night I had a new plan. I had some mat cutting razors that I had gotten from a garage sale, sharp and rectangular. I took one with me into the bathroom that night. I watched it, slipping easily into my skin, and I slowly, sting by sting, drew it across my wrist. The blood welled from the slit. I watched it, wanting it to pool, to drip across my wrist, and to stain the bath water red. It didn't. So I tried again the next night. And again and again. The cuts are getting deeper, and sometimes the blood scares me. Stopping now would be impossible. I cut 2, 3 times a day. The area under my watch strap looks raw and red. The cuts don't scab, my blade was too clean, but the landscape of my wrist has been changed. I need to talk to someone. I romantacize it when I shouldn't like this whole entire post. And I can't get enough of it. I didn't know I would crave a razor, the feel of it slitting my skin, but I do and I don't know what to think, and there is no one in my life to turn to. Will some one talk with me?