I was in horrible funk all day yesterday. I am ashamed of myself because I bloodlet again today, and I let jealousy get the best of me. I may have successfully ruined my relationship with . It’s coincidental actually – we broke up June 11th last year.
I have an open relationship with Nick. He tells everyone I’m his girlfriend, but when it comes down to it, we are free to date other people. I didn’t want to know about anyone else he was because I know I have a jealous streak. A few weeks ago he was talking about a couple girls he was . At first, it didn’t get to me, but lately it has been getting to me immensely.

I’m not certain why it has affected me as much as it has. Maybe it’s because I’m smack dab in the middle of a mixed episode, maybe it’s because I care about him, or maybe it’s because I’m scared to get into a serious relationship. I think it’s a combination of all three. Regardless of why it affected me, the fact is that it affected me and I reacted without thinking and now I ashamed of myself.

I have caught Nick in several lies. Usually, they are little white lies, but they are starting to get bigger. Friday, when I picked him up to spend the night, he had a hickey. I didn’t give it to him. We still haven’t had since we started dating again. It hurt my and I started talking down to myself – making it my fault that he had a hickey. I also convinced myself that he wasn’t really interested in me and that I was being a fool, etc.

Friday night, after getting into that mood, I started drinking with him, , Joe, and . I got and stoned with them. Nick told me that he had to be at his mom’s early Saturday because he had to help her get her house ready to sell. After a little while I started thinking about his hickey again and I was telling myself that we haven’t had sex yet because he is repulsed by me and that he must be having sex with other women. I also told myself that he was just using me for a place to party and to get away from his on weekends.

I went into Dudney’s room to hang out with him and Tori for a little while. I wasn’t in there too long, but when I came back to the living room Nick was asleep on the couch. I tried to wake him up to go to bed, but he wouldn’t budge. My negative self-talk started again because I couldn’t get him to go to my room. I thought he went to sleep on the couch on purpose so he wouldn’t have to sleep by me. It went downhill from there and before I knew it, I had my razorblade in my hand and I had cut myself several times on my belly. That provided little, if any, relief so I started too. It didn’t help either and I started crying. I was crying! I couldn’t believe it. I cried until I fell asleep.

When I woke up on Saturday, I was miserable ashamed. I thought, “I relapsed! Goddamn it! How could I fucking let myself do that? What am I supposed to tell my therapist and my counselor? I failed. I’m back to square one. I’m such a fuck-up.”

On this day..