I've been doing well for a really long time. I've been living in a new place, with new people and new friends. I thought that would make me feel safer--without triggers--but I was wrong. I've been feeling more and more lost over time. I've lost all of the security I once had. I've been stressed and without a place to go to release it. I've started seeing a counselor at my school, which has been the best decision I've ever made. I've been trying really hard to tell her EVERYTHING but it hasn't been helping in the way I've wanted. I guess I was hoping she could save me from these feelings, but it hasn't been like that at all. I've started cutting again. This last time was really scary. I was like daring myself to go deeper. I kept going until the blood was flowing out of me. Before it could run all over the place, I put some rubbing alcohol on it, and that just increased the pain. I loved every minute of it. And that was what scared me the most. The cut still hasn't healed. I've put a bandaid over it to hide it from people. It's really big. Right above my ankle on my leg. Another problem is there is another identical one right above it. Anyone that sees them would probably get the hint. I guess I'm desperate for someone to see. I really hope this whole thing blows over because I don't know how much more I can take at this point. There has been so many times that I've saved my own life by cutting and not trying to end it all. When will that stop helping? When will I get desperate enough? I don't even want to think about it.