Cutting yet?

I'm gonna cut soon. I know I am. Not tonight, maybe, but soon. I think about it all the time. I can't help it. I love the felling of cutting. It makes me happy. It makes me feel good. When I don't, like now, I feel like shit. I feel like shit.

Why aren't I better yet?

I still fell like cutting... I thought these meds would make it stop. Atleast I've been able to control my impulses. I haven't cut since I was in the hospital. It's so tempting though. I've been writing  in my diary and crocheting, so that helps distract me, but the feelings are still there. I feel so fucked up. Why do I have to be this way? Why me? WHY ME? WHY ME, GOD DAMNED MOTHERFUCKERS? This question is really starting to get to me. I didn't ask to be born with all of these mental problems. So what fucked up power decided that it was me that deserved to suffer. Decided this while I was a fetus? What the FUCK?