the problem with addictions

i think is that they never really go away.. i mean, as i sit here, still contemplating whether or not to grab a razor & go to town, i wonder what makes me want to. i just watched this movie that involved cutting, & just the thought of it makes me so.. desirous? but why, after all this time, would i still want to go there? i'm much happier now. i'm much more comfortable & confident with myself & who i am. i know i'm a good person. so what makes the desire to cut so strong? have i just instilled it so deeply within my psyche that it's the only coping mechanism i know? will i ever be truly free of the want? doubtful. i mean, how can you go through something like that & then ever look at a razor in a normal way again? i doubt i'll ever be able to see one & not immediately go to that place within myself. but is it so inherently bad to visit a dark place like that, if i don't indulge myself? is it okay to just stop by, or pass through, without the intention of stopping to stay a while? i suppose the worry has more to do with the fact that i never had the intention of staying so long. & the scars are a constant reminder of what i've done & what i think of doing so often. & they'll certainly never go away. but would i want them to? i've said before that i'm not ashamed, which i still believe. maybe sometimes i think it'd be nice not to feel so damaged. but am i still damaged? does that ever go away? could i have fixed myself, more or less? maybe i'd be less likely to travel down that path if there was more of an incentive for avoiding the behavior. i mean, i know from experience what i get from doing it, but what do i get from not doing it? nothing. not even a sense of accomplishment. i just go on. which is all well & good, except that it isn't. the desire is still there. it's always in me. when i see a knife at work, or when i use one at home. seeing pills on television or in my cabinet. alcohol in the store or in my wine glass. even seeing a drunk person, a prescription drug addict, a fellow cutter.. it all comes back. & what can i make of it? i obviously still consider myself to be one. i don't think i'll ever lose that label, even if i'm the only one enforcing it. nobody ever talks about it. people don't really ask about it. it's just there, like a scarlet letter. hey, by the way, people, i'm kind-of crazy & tend to dabble in self-destruction. i identify so much with that part of myself. but how much of that is who i am? mathematically, it was a regular part of my life for about.. 4 years? & i'm 21, so that's like a fifth of my life? just about as long as i've been in the work force. another thing i identify myself strongly with. but that's not self-destructive of course. i just so love tragedy, & the torture. lol how weird is that? it makes me somehow sickeningly pleased. like seeing the red. perhaps in the beginning i just wanted to feel again. i remember feeling catatonic when we got to ID. i remember listening to the music i listened to, & feeling like there wasn't any light. i was addicted to the song "pain", maybe because i did feel so numb. or dead. zombie-esque, if you will. maybe i just wanted to feel something again, even if it was just pain. but that wasn't always the reason, right? it evolved. what did it become for me? sometimes it was relief, sometimes it was punishment.. i'm slightly ashamed to admit that sometimes it might've been boredom. loneliness, depression, self-loathing.. of all the reasons i have done it in the past, what is making me want to now? i use words like delicious to describe it. if that's not crazy & unbalanced, i don't know what is. anyway, i'm getting rather sleepy. & although i feel no sense of accomplishment, i have yet again managed to resist the urge. this boy could be helping. but who knows what he'll be like tomorrow, or the next day? he can be a little hot & cold sometimes.. i suppose i'm used to it by now. & if i'm going to give away my heart, i might as well do it for real & deal with the consequences. i know i'm strong, & i can make it. if it breaks, it breaks, but i can fix it. & i think the break will be worth how happy he makes me sometimes. claire has seen it, & i know too. we are who we are. maybe if i let myself go, if i can give myself away, a certain kind of freedom will come into my life. & maybe all the irresistible smiling & blushing & giggling will be good enough if & when it all ends. because if it does end, i'll know that it just wasn't right, & that there's something even better out there. i hope i remember all that when i'm sweeping up my heart.