Clara's new weapon.

it started exactly a week ago. last saturday. i was angry and upset, the reason is not important, so i came to my room to be alone. i had to be alone. i felt so upset, i had to do something! so.. i grabbed something sitting on the shelf of my desk. a screwdriver.. the kind with the sharp tip. and i cut a slit in my wrist. and another. and another. by the time i was finished, i had nine cuts on my wrists, one on my shoulder, and two on my chest. it was a rush while i was cutting. the physical pain drowned out the pain in my heart. but the pain faded. and so did the rush. i just fell to the ground.. i was too ashamed to stand on my own two feet. i lay there for maybe five minutes.. and then put on a long sleeved shirt and went back downstairs. i didnt want anyone to know what i had done. but Mimi asked what was going on, she could tell something was off. and I couldn't lie to her. we went to her room, and i showed her my wrists. she held me while I cried. Mimi supported me and took care of me that day, encouraging me to tell my parents and then even telling them for me. My parents were so kind too. I am so blessed to have such a family. i decided to never cut again.. i had to do it for the ones who love me.
 I had not thought about the aftermath of the cutting. my wrists ached that night... with a dull, tired ache. at school that monday, i wore long sleeves, and carefully hid my cuts from the world. it was hard to hide them all this week. eight people in all have noticed, to six of them i told the truth. to the other two, i did not answer. i could not lie about this, so i said nothing.
my cuts are fading into scars.
but Clara has this new weapon. every day since, i have been tempted to cut again. i crave the release of the pain. i've been doing the butterfly project to help resist this temptation. with the butterfly project, you draw a butterfly on the place where you are tempted to cut. then, you name it after someone you love very much. this makes it so you don't want to cut there anymore, because you'd kill the butterfly. and if you kill one, you kill them all. it's basically just a reminder that cutting yourself breaks the hearts of the ones you love.
i'll keep trying to resist these temptations. and keep praying.

misery loves its company.

Today, i was just looking up anorexia, just to see how other people feel about it, and learn more about my condition. A blog came up in the search results. a pro-anorexia blog. girls post how they feel on it, how much they've lost or how much theyve gained. and the actual blog has pictures of thin models for "inspiration." These poor girls feed off each other's self-hatred. The more i read about this blog, it made me want to lose more weight. despite the fact that every post was unhappy. speaking of how much these girls each hated themselves, their bodies, their lives. It was heartbreaking to read. how did Clara gain so much power? These girls drag themselves and each other deeper into their depression. It's so terribly wrong. I know if i let myself read this blog and ones like it, it'd become easier and easier to stop eating completely. I'm adding every girl who reads blogs like this to my prayers. <3

Today's beauty

what do you think of when you think of beauty? I don't know about you, but the first thing that comes to mind is usually perfection. Our culture works to engrain this ideal of perfection into our ready minds. and to an imperfect girl like me, that's often hard to deal with. It's all well and good to tell yourself, "I am beautiful" and try to believe it, but that's not going to do you any good if your perception of beauty is skewed. Clara likes this.. because if we learn to depend on our beauty, we begin to feel like that is all there is to us. "If I'm not beautiful, not perfect, who will love me?" This thought has monopolized my feelings for years. It has made me believe that I am not lovable. Not lovable. It almost hurts to write it. I feel like.. if I don't change this, believe that I can be loved for who I really am, with or without my outer beauty, then I won't be able to see when true love comes along. I don't want to miss my chances. It's hard to trust. hard to believe people when they say, "you are beautiful." Who cares if i'm pretty. So many are, it's not like I'm anything special. The only special thing about me is who I am. Different from every other person in the world. I hope I'll be able to trust it someday.. trust that one "I love you."