what I do with razorblades

I didn't cut for a long time...but when I started doing college on the installment plan...I got really stressed. So usually around the end of the semester, I'd cut.

It brings me out of my emotional firestorms faster than a shot of liquor.

Then my relationship with my wife...I've been arguing, which I've read as my fault. All of it had to be my fault, I'm the crazy one.
So I hated myself, and I cut to punish.

But that morphed, and now I cut because it's like putting on a pair of fuzzy pajamas.   I take a razorblade and sketch little lines down my belly. All over it, in fact, from side to side. Then I put rubbing alcohol on it-and the burn is pure pleasure.
After I can feel this prickly sensation of pain around my middle that makes me feel somehow calmer all day.

My friend Squirrel tried to get me to use the rubberband...the result of that was that I started getting all sorts of purple, lesion-looking marks all over my left arm, where people could see it, and I wasn't getting the same comfort.
I do like the bands though, I can pop myself almost anywhere.

Today I realized I've been cutting because I was lonely for my wife's touch and affection...because we have the Stupid Argument of the Day(tm) and I was just getting it so little.

Furthermore, I thought it was all my fault because I kept yelling at her...and somehow my brain disregarded the fact that she was yelling at me, and starting the yelling in many cases...
I told her today that-I was not telling her this to manipulate her-but that I am so lonely for her attention that I cut myself so I don't feel so heartbroken and empty.
That...can't be allowed to ride anymore.

About the cutting though... I don't care anymore...I just don't want to give it up right now. It represents comfort and safety to me.
And I just feel like a massive wound right now. I'm not willing to try to move past it.