I’m Hanging On A Moment Of Truth…

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TW/CW : Self Harm

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I’m sorry. I’m just not that strong.

I’m spiralling out of control, crashing hard. You can only blow a bubble so big before it pops and I’ve popped. I’m fighting the tide but the waves keep washing over me, trying to pull me under.
Dr S was right. It does get worse before it can better. I just have to make it through the next week before I can start the new meds but how much worse is it going to get in the meantime? I’m not a suicide risk. I haven’t been since 2005. I’m very much cemented in to this life.

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The urges never go away though, it’s a constant battle not to take it out on myself, not to punish myself, not to hurt myself but what do you do when all that’s ever worked has been carve your issues out of your skin, to bleed the pain from your veins? As the blade glides across my thigh it’s like the pressure has been relieved, like someone’s released the gauge on my feelings. The silver slits turn red as the blood rises to the surface before it swirls and twirls its way into the bathwater. I’ve started yet I’m struggling to stop, I feel cleaner, pure almost. It’s not until the clean up comes that the reality hits. That I’ve hit rock bottom. The bath water is tainted – it’s ok though – the water will drain and I’ll triple clean the bath. The blood will stop flowing and the wounds will heal. If only it was so simple to clean my mind and heal my soul.

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Maybe rock bottom isn’t such a bad place to be? It’s almost comforting to be here, but I know it’s only because of how I sought comfort. I know it’s not “healthy” but neither is how I was feeling. I don’t feel regret for doing it, why would I? It’s made me feel better, I don’t feel like I’m going to burst anymore, the bad blood has been drained away. At least being at rock bottom brings the security of knowing that I can’t fall any further. Now I just have to accept that I’m never going to be who I was, and I have to try and discover who I am now, whoever that may be. Am I still my authentic self if I’m creating the person I become? Or do I become just another engineered phoney?
I’m tired of fighting all the time, of fighting my mind. I’m sick of the pain. I’m not a quitter though, so I’ll just have to keep fighting, because there’s no such thing as a white knight waiting to ride in and save me. Self preservation darling, it’s all about self-preservation.
Maybe the difficulty I have adapting to change is what sends me spiralling back to old coping methods? Maybe they’re my last grasp at holding on to a piece of myself that I actually know and remember? Is it possible that I’m scared of the person I could become? That maybe the person I could become doesn’t deserve to be punished? Could it be that by clinging to my old identity that I find it easier to punish myself, because I can justify punishing myself for the past? By accepting the person that I’m could yet become, I’d have to accept that I can’t control everything, I’d have to accept that it’s ok to try and fail, despite having been brought up to believe that failure is synonymous with weakness and that my acceptance and love from my parents is wholly dependent on my strength and success. Maybe it’s why I make such destructive decisions in life? Self sabotage my life as a defence mechanism which I can then use to justify my feelings of low self everything. Why open myself for others to hurt me, when I can do a perfectly good job of it myself? Oh the irony in being so OCD that I can’t even let people hurt me because they won’t do that right either.

Good grief indeed Charlie Brown. Good fucking grief.