How many cuts could I count?
How many could I place in time and context?
I had to admit that I couldn't remember the occasion of almost any of them, their catalysts, whether epic or mundane, completely obscured by time.
So many moments of supposedly unendurable pain, now utterly forgotten.
You start to think, maybe I don't need this anymore.
Maybe I never did.
I was trying to get equilibrium from two extremes: either I was so upset that I had to cut myself to relieve it, or I was so numb that I had to cut myself to get back to being there.