Sunday, 1 May 2011

Thoughts on self harming

I am not feeling down but I know something is wrong because I have stopped short of self harming a few times this week and this evening had some strong feelings of needing to purge after I ate. When things are good, I don't think about these things. In fact, I havent cut myself since last November-ish time. Thats five months. I havent made myself sick since December, or taken any laxatives either.

I feel disappointed in myself that I'm not a stable as I thought I was. I'm also disappointed that there is a part of me that feels relieved when I have these unhealthy urges. It is relieved that I am still crazy and that there is evidence that I should be in therapy after all. Was it just the change of being away all along that helped me to feel better? Now that I'm back in my normal life, is it all going to come back again?

I have braved wearing short sleeves a couple of time recently, when I've known I wont see anyone I know mainly, but even at work a couple of times when it was too warm. I think about attitudes I've heard expressed and worried that people will think I'm looking for attention if they see scars. This does make me anxious: I know some people think very little of people who self harm. But then part of me tells me we shouldnt care less about other peoples attitudes and just be comfortable. If its hot, why should I have to boil to death in my own sweat to save someones feelings of disapproval?

But also I think the scars have faded somewhat and they are located so that they hopefully aren't THAT obvious. Its only if I get cold or carry a bag that I need worry, then they tend to go dark purple where the blood goes into them. I still find it reassuring to see this happen. I am used now to the familiar criss cross pattern on my wrist and even though the scars are old, they remind me that I'm real and they still comfort me.

I don't like a certain three though that are on the under part of my forearm so that if I was standing with my back to you, you'd see them from behind. I remember the moment in which I made these ones; it was the night after I last saw my dad. I don't like these ones because they remind me of him. These ones will be with me a while longer yet, probably years if not forever.

I am not the part that usually writes the blog by the way, but you possibly can't tell that much from reading this.

1 comment:

Ilyana said...

I have read a few of your posts now and then and whenever I do I feel you are speaking the words I am thinking or feeling about myself. I have found this to be true with your words than with others that are similar.
I understand the cutting. The want, the desire, the relief and for me, the shame. Suffering in the heat so no one can see. I was shamed to death this weekend when my five yr old grandson said,"Oh, mamaw! Where did you get those big scratches?" I could have died on the spot. I just told him they came from playing rough with our big dog. Oh... :o(
I also have a certain fear of getting better. What will be expected of me then? I am not ready and not sure I ever will be for I have been ill in one way or another for ever, it seems.
Thank you for sharing and thank you for allowing us space to share ourselves.

Wiseowl