She said she was going to slit her wrists to see if she had the guts to do it. I said go for it. I didn't hear from her the next day. In my panic, I confessed to bf what's been kinda happening (alright, i didn't tell him about my perfect plan to kill myself this May...but he doesn't need to know that.) I explained our friendship, told him how we'd encouraged each others self-destruction, how I was afriad she may have slit too deep. A very long...disgreemeent.. persued.

I'd never felt so bad, somehow his presence makes my insanity seem like a problem. It upsets him, and that upsets me. And in all that the very basis of my thinking which I've drawn from my whole life was suddenly shattered.

Killing myself doesn't make sense, nor does encouraging other people to hurt themselves. I got her cutting, she got me wrist banging. It all seems so stupid now. Our suicide pact..just seems wrong. I know longer feel the need to kill myself if she does. And I don't want her to kill herself should anything happen to me.
If I killed myself, she'd kill herself, and if she was dead Jason would have to kill himself. I don't know that kid, so I can't know for sure that if he died anyone else would be offing themselves. But what if it all set off a big domino effect of suicide?

It's ridiculous. I want no more part in it.

Now, I've actually avoided self-harm since that night. So what, two days? That's like a record. I still really wanted to smash my wrists on the metal bar, and I'm almost sad to see my bruises starting to fade, but I can't stand giving him any reason to be unhappy. Maybe I can stick with this. Maybe.