I had an incredibly vivid dream about cutting myself up last night & after today’s events & through holding back the tears this evening, I find myself fantasizing about it so intensely I swear I can almost feel the sting & warmth of the blade slicing through my skin like a slab of butter.
It feels fucking orgasmic.
& hell, that’s more than I’ve felt in too long now.
My mother, step father & his mother leave at 3am tomorrow morning for Portugal. I hope they have a wonderful time. Heaven forbid the house will burn down while they’re sat on their arses on some beach somewhere, wishing they were in Spain.
My mother & I came to blows this afternoon after she just couldn’t stop pushing me about how I felt about them pissing off for two weeks. But that isn’t the point, I couldn’t care less if they went to the fucking moon for a month. The point is that they’ve handled it extremely badly & even though I gave them more than enough opportunities, they carried on lying about it to my face.
But alas, they lied & are now pissing off without a care in the world, let alone a care about me & what the hell I’ll do. But why am I hurt by this? It’s simply another nail in the coffin & only determines my will to cut them off once I am permanently living in America. After all, cutting them out of my life altogether has only been 5 years coming. Yeah. I’ve been considering this, or more like, I’ve been on the brink of doing this for five years now & it seems they only want to push me over that edge.
It’s been really tense tonight & well, there have been other influences that haven’t helped my situation. I want to write about them, I need to write about them but I don’t think I can.
All I know is that the noose is pulling tighter & I’m starting to choke. I look at the past six months & wonder, why things aren’t any easier….
Why are the urges to tear apart that Bic razor, drag the blade along & down through the layers of my skin until I collapse in an exhausted, blood stained heap stronger than ever?
I was this close to buying the pretty box of individual, wax paper wrapped Exacto blades in the store today.
My impulses are wild as ever & the only way I could stop myself was to reach for handfuls of chocolate bars instead. In-fact I found myself reaching for the alcohol tonight too & they haven’t even left yet.
So I don’t cut, but I do binge. I binge then I starve myself. Two weeks they’ll be gone. That’s two weeks where I won’t have to lie about haven eaten at work or bother to tuck most of what’s on my plate into a tissue when no-ones looking.
Because being 6 months self-injury free really has made me a much saner, happier woman hasn’t it?
Give me a fucking break. I’m still as fucked as ever. I simply can’t help myself.
Talking of urges, for the past few months my little piercing fanatic side has been niggling me to get another one, only I couldn’t decide what. Nothing like getting someone else to hold the blade for you. But maybe that’s not true, after all, self injury is incredibly personal & well, it isn’t the same thing. Mind you, the past few weeks that same voice has been telling me that a tattoo would be a good idea too.
I don’t even know anymore. I barely even feel like trying. I mean, what difference does any of this really make? If it doesn’t make a difference to anyone other than me, then only I can decide if what I choose to do is right for me. So in saying that, surely breaking my 6 month streak would be a terribly damaging thing, not only to my healed scars but to my psyche. If I let this go now, everything else will follow. If I push down on this blade now, my entire world will be pushed down with it. Won’t it? Or will I bounce back, as though from a respite?
2 weeks without my parents. I’ll be at work during the day, but it’s at night when my demons come out to play. It’s the isolation that will get me & well, that is surely a depressives best friend.
Aria. I agree, night times seem worst when we have those kind of urges. And you’re angry and hurt about everything that’s happening – who wouldn’t be? A difficult and dangerous combination. But consider this. If you cut, what will actually change? You’ll still be angry with your mother and stepfather and you will still be stuck on your own for 2 weeks. The only difference is that you will have new cuts on your skin and yet another reason to hate yourself, because you are almost certain to feel as if you have let yourself down badly.
I haven’t cut myself for 10 years, and I too am struggling at the moment because of my husband being away working for 5 weeks (I’ve been blogging about my feelings) and after the terrible day I had at work Friday, I could’ve cut no problem, and I did consider it for a while. But it wouldn’t have actually changed anything. It wouldn’t bring my hubby back any sooner, or sort out the situation at work.
Addictions are not a way of coping. They are a way of avoiding having to cope, but it’s a false premise as we know. The crap is still there afterwards, with an added layer of guilt and shame over the top, making the burden even heavier.
I think sometimes we have to go through crap to appreciate the good stuff at the end of it. I know it sounds trite, but you could choose to see this fortnight as a positive – no rows with your mum for 2 weeks. Then, by the time they get back, you will only have 3 weeks to go before you can go home and start planning that wedding of yours.
We addicts will always find a “reason” why we could slip back into old ways. But at the end of the day, we have the choice not to let the addiction rule us, and every time we resist its siren song, we strengthen our resolve to forge new and more effective patterns of coping with our pain.
If you’re lonely and struggling in the evenings, go for a walk, go to the late night supermarket and walk round just to be in the presence of others. Get on MSN and talk to Bear, or somebody else. Phone the Samaritans if you just want to hear a friendly voice. Stay away from those SI and ED websites. Do whatever it takes to feel less isolated and more grounded in reality.
You can do it.
By: hystericalfemale on October 5, 2008
at 11:53 am