TRIGGER WARNING.

August 26, 1999

Today was a good day. At about 1:30, Scott called. He was at Hollywood Video with Jacob, and could they come over? I said sure. I was supposed to go over to Melanie's house at 3pm, so they could stay at my house until then. We went on a walk around my neighborhood, eating freeze pops. [Freeze pops were strangely addictive - there's just something about frozen, dyed sugar water. And I don't care who you are - you hate the green ones, right?]

I mentioned that I am going to go on a liquid diet and eat only freeze pops. Jacob said, "Why? You are so thin." I laughed. "Are you kidding?!" "No," he said seriously. "You don't have any gut." He lifted his shirt, revealing where his gut would be, if he had one. "See?" He said, "I have a gut. Now lift up your shirt." Scott laughed. Jacob glared at him. "I didn't mean all the way, you loser." I lifted my shirt to show my stomach. Jacob was satisfied. "See?" He said, poking my stomach. "You're perfect."

But I hardly ever feel perfect.

At 3pm, my mom gave me a ride to Melanie's house, and we walked over to Shauna's to jump on her trampoline. We jumped for a while and then got tired and lay down.

After we went back to her house, I showed Melanie my wrist and told her what happened. She looked at me seriously and said, "Emily, what's wrong with you? Don't ever do that again." I don't know what's wrong with me. It doesn't make any sense.

Tonight, I sliced my left wrist again, after everyone was asleep. I cut it in the same places where scabs were starting to form, so they opened up again. I don't know why I did it. I don't think I want to die.

[If you can relate to these diary entries, check out the resources about "cutting" and other types of self-harm at TeensHealth.org.]