There is a kind of funky piece to that though. I don’t like that she cuts. It makes me sad. When we talk about it she says it’s no big deal and that I shouldn’t give a shit whether she does it or not. I got frustrated one day and was going through her desk drawer looking for razor blades and when I found one I took it and ran it across my forearm. She started yelling for me to stop. It wasn’t a big cut at all and really light, but it was enough to make my point. I told her that from then on every time she cut herself I was going to do the same. Every mark she made on herself I would mirror on my own skin. She totally freaked out. It made her really upset and angry. I guess she felt like I was taking this thing away from her. That she couldn’t cut herself anymore without hurting me because I was going to hurt myself if she did. I guess that’s kind of fucked up of me. But I just kept saying to her “No, you’re right Sara, cutting isn’t a big deal at all. So who cares if I cut myself too? It’s not a big deal, right?” And she knew I wasn’t fucking around because I had cut myself right in front of her. I’m probably not going to win “mother of the year” for that one but I do think she finally understood then how cutting yourself can hurt the people around you.
She actually rarely cuts herself anymore.