For the longest time, I've had the bad habit of making sure that I'm the one who hurts myself the most. I made sure to self-inflict twice the amount of pain I feel. I made sure to run scissors over where it hurts the rawest. I made sure that my own hands leave the deepest cuts. I am in control, I am in control, I am in control, or so I thought. In misery, I have forgotten — that there was a choice of not hurting, that there was a choice to heal.