Red Opium.

Hey! Well, I made it through the other day. It just gets to you sometimes, you know? How you know it's not even an option to cut anymore, but you miss it. I hate how I know I can't go back to it - can't even consider it. Sometimes I wish I could.
And then it bit me in the butt yesterday, when I went to meet my doctor (GP). He's one of those guys that has absolutely NO experience in psych, or with teenagers. (I'm his youngest patient by far - he's a geriatrics doctor) He was like "so you weren't actually trying to KILL yourself by doing this... just to feel better... attention, whatever..." God, I hate people that think it has more than the slightest to do with attention. They have no idea and they try to JUDGE ME? And maybe I'm reading too much into this, but when he was asking me if I had ever tried to kill myself, seriously, and of course I wasn't going to TELL him that I HAD, but he was treating me like some little kid that was seeking attention and wasn't serious. I hate being treated like I'm immature. I really do. I think I made the best choices I could have made at the times I made them, and I don't like being treated like some tantrum throwing two year old! I hat the Stigma, you know - that people think they know everything about you if you have scars. That's not all I am, and has nothing (well maybe not NOTHING) to do with who I am as a person, you know?
Sorry. This guy pissed me off.
Anyway, I'm marginally okay right now, and I appreciate your listening. I'll check back often.
Sarah