*Triggering - cutting*
I lost my blades moving house to my dads. And his set of expensive ‘razor sharp’ kitchen knives aren’t actually razor sharp at all, my blades used to slice so easily, those could only just make a dent, I had to poke and drag with a fucking safety pin but thats really not my style so I didn’t persevere.
And now I’m fucked off because theres kind of a ritual to how this goes and the fricking lack of blades ruined it, I’m going to have to buy some ASAP. So now I’m lying in bed with a plaster covering some pathetic wounds that didn’t even warrant a plaster but I had to put one on because thats how it goes, I can’t not use a plaster on top of everything else, too many things have gone wrong with this as it is. *sigh*