What have I done

For the first time ever I thought, maybe it was time. 

I've grown, I remember, I can go without. 

Even though I decided, I couldn't just drop it like magic, so I took it slow. 

Just a couple of hours, a single evening, nothing big.

 Baby steps.

It suddenly stopped being a reminder.

That only really lasted for a little while though.

How many years has it been? 

Honestly I don't know. 

Four years, maybe three? 

I don't know.

 All I know is that the cycle has been broken 

and I can no longer wonder if it's time to move forward, 

because I've fallen right back into my own personal pit of darkness.

I've stopped caring. 

About my clothes, my greasy hair, 

my weight, my skin, 

my mental stability. 

Those are all the last things on my mind these days. 

The stress from school, my own thoughts and insecurities these past few months have driven me right back into the darkness. 

I was never far from it. 

Tip-toeing it's edge, because that was the only way I could function. 

Unaware that I would eventually fall back in.

That's a lie.

I knew, 

I knew I would break 

and I put up so many obstacles to 

try to sway myself from falling again. 

But night time is always the time when I think too much. 

So I stood from my bed, after tossing and turning for over an hour,

 aware that sleep wouldn't come. 

I walked to that blasted fucking drawer opened it and took it out.

Just to hold it, 

I thought allowing the weight to comfort me, remind me. 

I should have stopped there instead I continued 

opening it, admiring it. 

I... I held it to my skin..... 

Just enough to feel pain, 

but not enough to break skin.

I did that for a few moments, before hiding it away,

 positive that that would keep me from going further.

I'm such a fool.

It's the following night. 

Again sleep is out of my reach, 

instead I jump from my bed looking for anything 

that will keep me from going into a full blown panic attack. 

I reach for the drawer.

This time my movements are done without thought, 

precise and calming.  

It's only when I feel skin break that I stop.

What have I done?

Why would I do this?

It's been so long, I was suppose to be better!

Why can't I get better....

The worst part in all of this is the shame I'm going to feel

 when my fail safes ask to see my hand.

 I don't want to see that look in their eyes.

 Pity, regret, disappointment?  

Either way I don't want to post this, 

because the first fail safe will see. 

Although I'm more afraid of the other one

 and who knows how long I can avoid their glances. 

I just wish the sadness wasn't so prominent. 

The stress so overbearing. 

My will so weak.

It's easy to fall into the darkness, 

but so much more difficult to escape it.

I'm such a fool.