The Nightmare Night [TRIG TRIG TRIG *sh*] I have had two cutting sessions today: Firstly just because I was so so so depressed. And secondly, well... At first it was because I just couldn't take being so depressed anymore. Then it moved on to the being because of the thrill of cutting. And then because of ****. I did something different, very different today : I cut on my stomach and chest (ok, so that's not different), but I carved an initial (the first in ****): one on my stomach and one on my chest. **** keeps popping into my head. It's horrible. It's not like I even know why I don't seem to be thinking about him or anything connected with him. Then suddenly, my cutting, crying or hysteria is because of him. I feel so violently dirty and terrified because of him. He really does make my skin crawl. I can see him laughing grotsqueqely in my mind. Him and his mum KNOW what they did to me. And I can see them in my mind - laughing at me. It's so SICK. I can still vividly remember his sick, smirking face while he did what he wanted with me all those times; the embarrassment at Holiday On Ice; the hallucination I had of him; his SICK SICK SICK DISGUSTING face. But why am I thinking about this now? Why does he incessantly pop up in my head. It all ended two months ago, and only lasted about six months before. Oh God that seems like a long time. How did I cope being abused for 6 months? Why didn't I just leave him straight away?! I am so THICK and fat and ugly and dirty and cheap. Ewww. I HATE myself. I hate HIM. I hate his mum. And all they do when they know I'm like this is laugh! They LAUGH at my distress, my horror, my self-destruction... I can't live in my own body anymore. I want to lash out and hurt it. I want to scrape all his dirty slime off. How can I survive if I'm unable to live within my own body? Oh someone take it away. Make it stop. I can't fight anymore. I really can't. What kind of a future will I ever have anyway? Too afraid to leave the house mostly. HELP. But nah, nobody cares anymore. I've been depressed so long now that nobody cares. They've all given up on me. Even the doctors. No one thinks I'll do it, so what's the point in carrying on now. I hate them. I hate life. I hate ME.