For Record Purposes (!!TW, this is messy stuff!!)

September 27th was the last time I did anything major, so four months and 23 days since anything that will scar. Something about seeing the scars fade is painful-- I have plenty of scars that will never go away, and some purple ones yk, but when they fade to white and blend with my skin... it gives me that feeling, bc I remember how it used to look, all the times I did it, how bad it was, all the blood, everything I was going through... reduced to blurry memories and scars that you can feel but can't always see. And it makes the urges stronger-- that need for personal validation, proof, and the general desire for pain and blood. All the blank space makes me more desperate to cover it.

I've had a few slip-ups recently, small things, the latest being over a month ago on February 12. One month, nine days. They were smaller things, only yielded bruises and a few blood drops, but my therapist told me they still count as a relapse. She compared it to alcoholism: "If an alcoholic just has a couple shots, they're still drinking alcohol, right? So if you just do a few [x], you're still self-harming."

Scares me. I don't want to relapse. I might be in denial-- I keep telling myself it's not a relapse and treating it like no b*** deal. But it was a month ago and seems like last week, which means things are speeding up again. I just got out of this last depressive episode, it's only been a few months, I can. Not. Relapse right now... my grades are already hanging on by a thread, and if I fail a class I'm out of the college program for good this time. But I feel like I'm slipping. But I just got better. I can't be *** slipping.