Ah, I miss cutting so much. I only stopped for my family and it's getting harder and harder each day. I feel sick because I want to cut so badly. I want to feel my knife slicing my skin. I've started smoking and taking every pill I can get (painkillers mainly, phenobarbital whenever possible). I might burn myself tomorrow or smash my hands against a wall. It's cleaner than cutting, isn't it? When I next have the house to myself, I'm going to get a selection of sharp objects and just cut. I can't cope without it, it's too difficult. My heart is bleeding because I miss it so much. Every night I prick my finger with a needle from my diabetic machine and rub all the blood on my face. Jon tells me that it's cleansing my soul of all badness and depression. Ah, I miss cutting more than anything. This is so hard. So difficult. I think i'm dying.