Something so Wrong

It shouldn't have felt that good, to see blood again.
Oh lord, I am obsessing.
To feel my heart race with the thrill, to feel that thud in my chest that was absolutely exhilarating. How good it felt to cut myself again.

The pain, it was worth it. It is still worth it now, days later when the bone aches and the skin burns. No real chance for infection, thank god, my immune system is much too strong for that. I heal well, and quickly. But it will itch and burn forever. I don't care. I only care that it hurts him so much. Can't he understand? I can keep this all in, all this pain and rage and frustration and delusions and every other negative emotion one could possibly feel, I could keep it all in and implode from the pressure. Every little thing seems to be a trigger.

His best friend tried to commit suicide the other day.
It made me feel horrible, for him, because now he has two crazy people to take care of.
At least I'm not needy,
I think.

And I got to see inside an operating room.
A surgeon pulled another mans gall bladder out with some tools and a camera.
That didn't trigger me. Even though it was gross and bloody and fascinating.
But on the car ride home, I got stuck in some traffic. That triggered me. I got a bad grade on a test, that triggered me, I watched a sad show on TV and that triggered me.

His best friend tried to commit suicide and that just made me jealous. I want that attention, the doctors, the pills. I swore it off years ago but I didn't realize just how much I needed it. Part of me wants to be crazy and live in this world I have created for myself.

The other part just wants to be dead.