unruly emotions

Controlling your emotions is a difficult thing, at least for me it is. I’m at a bit of a loss as to where to start with my whole ‘recovery’ process now that I have a brand-new diagnosis to wrap my head around. Being mentally ill has it’s quirks, benefits sometimes, but mostly it just leaves me confused. Everything I see on the internet is so conflicting, and each case of people like me, the borderline personalities, is different. Like it’s easy to say that I fit the criteria for this particular illness, but it’s so different from person to person that’s I cant sift through what applies to me and what doesn’t.

I suppose this means I have to find my own understanding of it, which is likely why I’m confused. And as I said, it’s difficult to control your emotions normally, so where does that leave me, the emotionally disturbed?

lol I’m sorry I added that last bit… it’s just funny because it’s very true, and I don’t really mind. Being emotionally disturbed is part of the borderline personality’s package, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. True I have my fair share of freak outs, but I also have perhaps a wider range of emotions than some, or maybe just stronger emotions. And with powerful emotions whether they be happy or sad they often lead to wonderful pieces of writing or art, right? not to say I couldn’t write a crappy emo-poem right now, but in any case, my work will at least mean a lot to me (whether or not it’s crap) and that’s something which I think gives an added value to my sometimes-crazy emotions.

I’m really angry about what I did to my wrists though. I only scratched them with the tip of a knife, but against my skin the marks look fairly disturbing anyway. I know it was the wrong thing to do, but honest to goodness I was in another place when I did it. This isn’t something I would normally do, although I have done it and similar things in the past. I just thought that was all behind me.

I just… I don’t know. I needed to be violent towards myself, there’s such a terrible anger inside me sometimes, and I’m the type to keep things bottled in. Guess I should work on that. I just needed to destroy something… but more than that, too. I needed to have those marks to know that what I’m feeling is real, to see some physical sign on the outside. And honestly… it felt good while I was doing it. After words it feels like shitty balls, don’t get me wrong. But in that moment, when I was finally releasing some inner demon, I felt like I was doing a good thing.

I want to make it clear I didn’t do it for attention. I told my best friend Amy what I did because I was very ashamed, and because I knew she’d give me advice on how to stop myself from doing it in the future, without judging me. She told me she’d always be there for me, and that’s maybe what I needed, to be reminded that people care if I’m hurting myself, to be reminded there’s reasons for me not to do this, other than the obvious. I didn’t tell my parents or anyone else though, because I did this to me, for me, however messed up that sounds – not for anyone but me.

I can’t believe I did it though, I’m not one of those girls…. at the very least I’m happy for my fear of blood, and in extension – death. I couldn’t cut myself, I mean that would be so permanent, no matter what the outcome. Nevertheless, it still scares me what I am capable of. I guess all I can really do to help myself is not do it again and distract myself if the urge comes… not that I get that urge often, it’s just when things start to boil inside me, ya know?

I have to go see miles now, which means were going to have sex, which means he’s going to see my arms. I don’t know how I’ll explain it. I’m worried he’ll take it personally, when like I said, I did this to me, for me. Hopefully… he won’t ask, but I know him better than that. he will wonder, he will ask, and I don’t think he’ll be comforted by what I have to say. And since we got into that huge fight over him having web cam sex with other girls, I’m pretty sure he’ll blame himself.

I guess the best thing to do is to make it clear how sorry and I am and that I intend to never do any such thing again.

My emotions scare me sometimes. I don’t always understand the nature of the rage inside me, why I hate myself so much. I wish I could stop, go back in time and tell my old self how sorry I am for hating her, that she deserves better. I know even my new self deserves better than this. I deserve to give myself a fighting chance, starting with controlling this unruly emotions. There’s hard work ahead for team me.

anyway that’s it for now. sorry for how bleak this entry was…. I’m really trying to find more positives in life, and I know this sadness will pass, I just had a relapse of sorts. And next time I’ll try to write something more cheery, just for a change.