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My partner ended up seeing my cuts, obviously, and they were supportive and caring. I love them so, so much. But reaching out.. all it does is inform someone else I'm struggling, it doesn't help me, it never has. I don't understand the appeal of sharing one's issues, it does nothing. I've told them how I feel and they want to help, but I just don't know how they, or anyone, can.
My suicidal ideation has shifted in scope, if certain things were to happen killing myself is the only answer I can see. I perceive those events as catastrophic, and they feel like I'm setting boundaries for how much I can take before it's not worth it anymore. It feels comforting to know it's there as a magic solution to those, but I'm scared it might devolve and become an answer to much more than it probably should.
For now, coping with cutting myself is helping a lot, but I'm also embarrassed about my partner finding out, I feel like I pulled them into my problems and I'm an anchor on their joy, in spite of their assurances it's not the case. I hope it gets better, for both our sakes. It's not their duty to hold me together forever, and I wouldn't wish that burden on them anyway.
