- i sit on the lid of the toilet and begin to cut through my skin. i can never resist responding with my frantic self-abuse. as i inflict pain onto my skin, i begin to feel relief flood through me. the physical pain shuts out the emotional pain. i try to hang onto that, but i know it won't last long enough.
even as i begin to clean the wounds, the rush of complex thoughts makes me feel both guilty and comforted, alone in my pain, yet in control of unexpressed emotions. a freak with a secret. next time, it will take even more pain to find that brief release.
- "cutting is the replacement for the absent language."
- "you have so much pain inside yourself that you try to hurt yourself on the outside because you want help." --Princess Diana
- others feel dead and turn to SI to be reminded that they're still alive
- "self-injurers are often bright, talented, creative achievers- perfectionists who push themselves beyond all human bounds, people-pleaser's who cover their pain with a happy face." --Marilee Strong
- there are also self-abusers who have come to rely upon no one else and use SI as an emotional release
- the self-injurer may not even be aware of what she is doing to herself, and as for reasons, these most likely elude her as well
- despite the way it may look, cutting is usually not a failed suicide attempt
- the progressive, addictive nature of this disorder can be life threatening. the more desperate a cutter becomes, the higher risk of accidental suicide
- they've lost sight of the truth somewhere along the line. --when you construct your world view on a series of misunderstandings, its like building a skyscraper with the foundation out of plumb. a fractional misalignment at the bottom becomes a whopping divergence from true by the time you get to the top.
- I'm caught in a web of deception whose strands have been created by myself and others. i can usually recall, and grossly distort any criticism I've ever heard.
- thoughts come in gradually at first, then pick up momentum more and more quickly, snowballing into a crushing avalanche of fault finding remarks. i don't know the truth, or how to use it to fight back. that overwhelming mis-belief about who I've 'heard' i am, has become the cracked foundation upon which i base my reality. frustration and feelings of helplessness can drive me to the edge in a matter of moments.
- i started cutting to silence the clashing voices that buzzed like static, drowning out the truth i longed for.. prayed for.. searched for..
- over time I've become more separated from my feelings and have employed a clerk of sorts, to file my life into neat folders and cabinets..
- I've begun to notice that i can't feel, even when i want to
- I've resumed cutting in desperation, to remind myself that I'm still alive. the blood seems to be the only evidence that I'm not dead yet.
- when you haven't felt in years- and your memories of feelings are so intensely distorted- the thought of being hit with such a tidal wave of emotion is enough to drive out all hope of normalcy.
- I'm afraid it will take a great deal of time to recover and i know there will be temptations and lapses on the road to healing....
