[happymonkey]

When I first started cutting, my mom noticed the scars, but didn't know where I kept my razor and knew that even if she found it I could probably just get another one. A few months after I'd been clean from cutting for a while and all of my wounds had healed, she was cleaning my bathroom and found my rusty old blood covered razor blade in my cabinet and threw it out. I only found out when I came home and it was clearly missing without me having moved it. At first I freaked out a little bit knowing that my mom had found my blade and knowing that I really didn't have an outlet to cut anymore, but it was that simple gesture that kept me from cutting ever again.