I was told that this section of my notebook is not only for journalling, but for writing letters to my Master when I am otherwise unable to speak with Him. That's what I'm going to do now.
On 4-6-2012 (according to the date on the drawing), we had an argument, ended up in different rooms of the house, etc. I cut. Now, before You have a complete system overload, it didn't hurt, bleed, or anything else. I did it once. I didn't even consider it to be cutting at the time, because it didn't help or bleed. It left a mark after a few days similar to the clear scab that covers a pimple. I mention it now because I was shaving my legs, saw blood, wanted to cut, looked down, and caught myself thinking: "There's not even a mark, I'm going to get away with it." At that point in time (today) I freaked the hell out, wanted to cut anyway to cope with it, felt like everything I'd worked for was ruined, was overcome with guilt and the need to confess, but scared to death to tell You. I spent an extra 10 minutes trying to figure out what I'd say. Then I went downstairs and before I could make myself say anything, the movie was showing the trailer and it was about cutting. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have told You. I've never done this before, I promise. This is the only time I've ever questioned in my mind whether I've actually cut or not. I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say.
Emily
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