After I wrote that, I felt so filthy and disgusting that I went in the shower and scrubbed til my skin felt raw. I feel tainted. All sorts of other memories came back, and I could literally feel his hands on my skin. I wanted to be sick.
When will this torment stop? I can’t go on feeling like this. I am torn into shreds, empty, festering wounds inside me getting more infected by the day. The only reason I didn’t cut was because I still have two butterflies on my arm.
Please, help me. I can’t deal with this any more. I’m close to cutting again, and I don’t know how long I can last now. Please, please help me.