Gawd I want to cut

The coldness of the steel blade felt so good against my skin. I didn't allow myself to cut, just to grip the knife in my hand. Touched it to my wrist, to my thigh, to my stomach. Unfortunately the result was similar to that of a drunk taking only a sip of whiskey, just enough to induce the cravings for more. My daughter was downstairs and the old people were in the next room so it was definitely not a convenient time to cut so I had to distract from the urges.

I find myself longing to be alone, providing myself the opportunity to do harm. What I don't understand is why the urge is so powerful. I don't want to just do my normal cutting. I feel like I need to take all the past rage I've felt, all the rage I can tell I'm suppressing now, out on myself. Make an assault on my body more brutal than I or anyone else has in the past.

But I continue to fight. Despite feeling like I'm losing the battle and will soon have to surrender, I continue to hold off this demon. Should I celebrate what small victory I have won so far or wait until I succumb to the horrors of my own mind and beat myself up even further for having failed yet again?