That journal entry is a tribute to my razor. I wrote it with the hopes of expressing my huge attachment and years of dependency on that cold piece of metal. It was one of my many attempts to separate myself from my ever consuming addition to cutting. I sadly have to note that I failed shortly after bidding farewell. Also, there were many attempts to stop and many more failures.
I don’t believe people truly understand the magnitude of suffering from that type of addiction. It truly is an addiction even if people choose not to acknowledge it as one.
Addiction– the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma.
The definition of that word describes cutting or self harm in every which way and form. A person truly suffers day in and day out. One needs to cut just as badly as an alcoholic needs their next drink. Everything about your life comes down to your next cut, the amount of blood you spill and the perfect looking scar left after it all.