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All that I have found in reason, is reason just to not believe ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You should have never gone to Hollywood Well, my reprimand is not yet offically over until the end of May, but I no longer have to have meetings with my RD or go to the counseling center. I guess I'm relieved, but at the same time...I don't know. It was nice to have someone to talk to, I guess. I just...I don't even know how to put this. Okay: I don't even understand why they were so concerned, or why they pretended to be. I was fine until the school butted in. Then I had to go talk to the professional psychologist at the counseling center, and although I was still in trouble, after he said I was fine they didn't really seem to care. And that's when I got worse. I mean, I still had meetings with my RD and I had to go see a counselor, but it wasn't the professional psychologist that I'd talked to (because he didn't have time, blah blah blah) - in fact, she wasn't even a professional psychologist at all. Before all of this happened, I was just making a few scratches here and there. No big deal. They bled, but just a little and the scars faded after a few weeks. Afterwards, especially after talking to the psychologist because he gave me ideas, I got to the point where I was cutting frequently, with blood rushing down my arm and dripping onto the floor faster than I could clean it up. And I loved it. It was great. If it were up to me, I would have just bled and bled and bled some more. And now I have scars that I don't know if they're ever going to fade completely. But don't get me wrong - I don't regret any of it. Just as the cuts were beautiful, so are the scars, and I think they tell a story about me that I can't put into words. Understanding me means understand my scars as well. Cutting is something that is a part of me. I've done it since before high school, and I'll probably continue to do it well after I graduate college (although probably never as much as I did it this year because, I'll admit, I got a little out of control). Looking back at the situation now, though, I do think I would have handled certain things differently, like the first meeting I had with my RD. I think that, if I'd handled that right, everything else could have been avoided. And I would have handled my meeting with the Resident Life Director and the psychologist a lot different, too. It's too late to change anything now, though. I guess, all in all, I am kind of glad that I was forced to stop because I do feel more alive. But on that same note, I never would have gotten as bad if the school hadn't gotten involved. I'm not sure if I'll ever let myself get that bad again, but I do know that cutting is not something I'm willing to give up forever, at least not right now. I wouldn't necassarily say that I need cutting, or that I'm addicted to it or whatever, but it is something that I feel I shouldn't have to give up just because some people don't understand. I don't even know if this entry makes any sense. Oh well if it doesn't. I hope you all had a Happy Easter, and good luck to any college students in the coming weeks and on finals!! 6:49 p.m. - 2006-04-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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