So I've had better months. February is always hard for some reason, but I've survived it. My aunt is still alive and has had the stent placement she should have had 6 years ago, but still needs a heart valve replacement, and even then, since she delayed so long there's a chance she won't last much longer.

My mom fractured her back from passing out when she had the flu and is recovering, but my dad's taking the brunt of trying to run back & forth an hour & a half north and he's no spring chicken either. I wish we still were closer to my aunt, but it is what it is, and we do the best we can. I'm dealing. And I know it will get better, or at least I have to believe that.

 I'm up to cutting again. It's a habit I've never been able to get rid of since high school, but I try to work around it with coping skills. I put the knife down tonight, I choose a paring knife since it won't require an ER visit if I'm extra angry or depressed.

Normal people never even work with this, and trying to maintain a normal facade is just fucking exhausting. To them it's repulsive and abnormal, and even those in recovery from substances just see this as odd since dual diagnosis people are hit with (obviously) a double problem. I know the reasons, I know the causes, but it does help in a weird way. Or not so weird way since it makes sense to me, just not the rest of the world. I just try to work things out and a couple of additional scars won't make a difference to me, although I'll have to hide them from family.