Six Word Memoirs on Life Stories

Backstory

Last night/ 6:00 yesterday morning, since it's about 2:00 in the morning now, I finally earshot to get to sleep, after being plagued with sleeplessness, my own fualt for sleeping in so late then staying in bed, but I had spent the night reading fanfiction and as I drifted off I guess I was thinking of one having to do with self harm that I had stupidly read ecause I'm a sucker for a good glee fanfic. Well for the first time in who-knows-how-long I actually dreamt and remembered it. Thing was, in this dream I was arguing with myself on the bathroom floor wether or not to cut. Though the dream didn't last long I do remember it fading to black just as I made up my mind that I couldn't stop myself, that I was too weak. I then woke up a little while later scared and feeling shaken, for the first time in many days I cut, and I cut bad. I tried fighting it most of the day actually, but as the day passed on I couldn't help bit keep dwelling on the dream, no matter how many times I listened to "Do You Wanna Touch Me There" and "Landslide" on Glee, it just didn't work. That dream broke me and it was partially my own fault, the trigger warning was there but I still read it, not thinking that I would be sleeping right after. I still can't get the almost crystal clear image of my leg against the floor and the word 'Fuck' written on it from the dream, that's what scared me most because up until tonight that word had been written on my leg since Friday, which meant the dream person really was me and it was a recent me, not a past or even future me, but me in the here and now, too weak to fight the urge to cut. Even if my twin-y swears up and down that I'm the strongest, mot beautiful person she knows.