I lie when I tell people I’m okay, I lie when I tell them I don’t care, I lie when I tell them that I believe them. I do not believe them, I really don’t! I don’t hate myself, but I do not like myself either. I don’t hate my body, I just hate the parts that I can not change. I hate the parts that nothing can change. I hate it so badly that I cutted myself again, and worst off all is that … I liked it. I like the wounds, the scars, … they remember me that I survived, but they are dissapearing, and so is my survival feeling. I hate how I feel and I hate how proud I am of my wound. I cutted myself and I liked it.