Recovered Thoughts

So, I have been swishing this thought around in my head for the last couple days. It's a simple question; what is recovery?

It seems easy to say you make it through, you make it, plain and simple.

Dictionary.com defines recovery as restoration or return to health from sickness.

Alcoholism.about.com says a voluntarily maintained lifestyle characterized by sobriety, personal health, and citizenship.

And as I read about what people classify as recovery I read this article; http://articles.latimes.com/2011/dec/22/news/la-heb-recovery-20111222  which shows what researchers have developed as a formula to classify recovery.

I read many other articles and studies to try to get to the bottom of this word everyone uses, and I really found that no one really knows.

People make up their definitions for the word and an equation isn't really a way to scale recovery, I don't think.

So, here's where I stand....clueless. what am I striving towards? I don't necessarily think I'll ever recover from self harm. It will always be there, it doesn't go away. Also, I don't understand recovering.

People who are recovering are obviously thriving to be recovered, but do they know when they get there? How do you know if you're recovered, just one day it hits you and BAM you're healed, you're recovered...

Some would say that I'm in recovery, but I don't know if I agree with that. I don't know where I'm heading to qualify as recovered. I know that recovery is bullshit when I sat there and gave in to the blade yesterday, so am I no longer in recovery even?

It's all just a blur and I don't know what addicts are working towards, the addiction never goes away, it just becomes easier for you to fight, but you could always give in and fall right back down.

So how do you recover?

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 29

Do you follow any self harm blogs?

I'm not really a blog follower, self harm or otherwise, so no. Unless you count mine, yeah I do, but I don't think that's what the people asking mean.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 28

What short term goals do you have?

My goal is to figure shit out. I want to become an EMT so my goal is to take the courses necessary and start feeling like I have some kind of purpose. As for cutting, I'd like to quit, or make it a month I guess is the short term.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 27

Discuss any and all progress you have made.

I have been trying not to focus on progress because I feel like I give myself too much expectation. Let me think, I have made it... Two months and five days. But who cares, really.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 26

What is something that makes you the most happy?

I don't know about that word.... "happy"

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 25

Do you know any statistics about self harm?

I actually know a lot of stats and such about self harm. I made it a point to learn about it since, ya know, I was partaking. I know the little things like self harm effects over two million people, more women than men, and average age of 16 to 25. Anyways, I learned a lot from reading bright red scream, as mentioned in a earlier post, it's full of any fact or stat you'd care to know.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 24

What are your main triggers? Why?

Triggers...Triggers.

As I was cutting the only "trigger" was my thoughts. My thoughts led to anxiety or anger led to me cutting myself.

When I am not cutting (now) the triggers are worse. I cant watch any movie with cutting in the tiniest bit, which sounds silly, but if you are trying to avoid it you really notice how many movies have it. Blood gets to me, but not too bad. Cuts on others or on myself (accidentally) are triggering. Even things like the results of rubber bands. Rubber bands is a game of uncle of sort, you take turns snapping each other with the rubber band til one stops. Yeah, neither of us are wienie enough to stop so our arms were rough afterwards. Seeing those lines on someones arms is hard for me. So not only cuts of others, but resembling "cuts".

Bipolar Scrambled Thoughts

Not sure how to unscramble. At the moment my mind is racing, not just like open road highway 90 no cops around, or you hope there aren't any, it's more like autobahn speeds.

I think about every imperfection. I ruin everything. I am pathetic and will go nowhere in life. I am broken. Like shattered into pieces then stomped on several times.

I think about the past. The past way I'd fix these thoughts. I automatically have evaluated how many blades are around me and just in case what I could use if I couldn't get to one. How I want just a tiny knick, that's all, not a full on slice, but a little release. A release like when you make a tiny hole in a blown up balloon, the air slowly comes out until it's mostly empty.

I think about dying. How it's an easy way out of everything and sometimes easy is just the best way to go. But then I think of you. I think of the people in my life. How hard it'd be for my family. But sometimes I have to think of myself. They'll all get over it, why do I need to suffer to save others feelings. I want to die. But I laugh at myself (internally, I'm not that crazy right now) because yeah, I want it, but right now it's just a thought. Right now I wouldn't kill myself, thought not action.

But wait maybe the only thing between the thought and the action is simply I have a plan, but haven't decided on the place specifically. I suppose that's important, being found once you're gone.

There's two of me.

There's two of pretty much all cutters, as well as other people, but its different for us. That one part that is (we'll say dark) and the other side that's good. It's a day to day battle. Not cutting is simply what side of me, good or dark, has control of my hands. Having a total meltdown on the side of the road when I broke my car and my dad needs to come save me and I miss picking up evan and....you get the idea. The darkness that tells me I ruin everything, it's all my fault (it being everything) is what tells me to start sobbing. It also tells my hands to start cutting because I deserve nothing but blood. If the good were in charge I'd have kept my composure in said hypothetical situation. That battle that cutters face every second of everyday is what makes the decision to let go and die so much easier than it should be.

I guess what I'm trying to get at here is...well, I'm not sure. Mostly just started writing and didn't have a Care where it led. So... Here was my bipolar scrambled brain.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 23

What's your favorite inspirational quote?

Well, my quote is really a bible verse. I fell in "love" with psalm 34 a couple years back, I don't really remember why I was reading it, but the whole chapter is such a reminder that god is there no matter what. I pushed him away and all the same he stayed with me, that's a dificult thing for me to remember even now, but this verse, this one verse in the paLm 34, is one I don to when I'm lost and broken.

"The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 22

Where do you feel the most calm?

You ask the person with an extreme anxiety disorder. I don't really ever feel calm, I don't know how to relax really, but the closest I come is when I am walking. Very late at night, the cold air giving me shivers, but bearable, the stillness of the world, feeling so uncrowded, like I only exist right there, right then and no one can ruin it. Even if they tried, i walk as fast as my legs allow. I guess I feel calmest in solitude.

Day 21

Have you stopped in the past? What is different this time?

I have definitely tried to stop in the past. During senior year of high school I had quit. I made it nine months, right til my birthday in college, and I gave in and started up again, that time worse than before. Cutting carried me all the way to the psych ward where, obviously, I had to quit. That lasted two months and I started again. Then made it nearly four months and gave in and now I am trying again. There isn't really anything I am doing differently this time, I don't feel as though there is any other way to stop cutting. You make the decision to stop, fight the awful, constant urges, and try your damnedest to just make it. I want to quit, however, between you and I, I don't know if quitting for good is really what I want. I think short term and quitting for good is just too far.

Day 20 (triggering)

What is the most vivid memory you have of self harm.

There are so many and I'm hesitant to even share one, but here we go...

It was while I was in great falls, there were many times there, but this time was different. I cut several times, but couldn't feel it, the release, anything at all. I felt crazy and I wanted it to stop. The cuts weren't enough. I tried deeper, blood dripping onto the bathroom tiles, and still nothing. It was never like that before, cutting always worked to calm me down so I went to the kitchen and grabbed a large kitchen knife I had hid from someone who was gonna hurt themselves days before. I grabbed it and headed straight to the extra room in my hallway, my face was blank, my skin was bloody, and my brain was racing. I was everywhere and nowhere at all. I wasn't planning to cut, I was planning to die. Locked away in a room where no one would find me til it was too late. I sent one last text and turned off my phone. I was scared, I needed someone, anyone, so I turned my phone back on. My best friend was freaking out and calling me over and over, I refused to answer conflicted as to what to do. I laid down on the bottom bunk that had no mattress and let the springs dig deep into my back. The knife was on my wrist and I was ready, it was time, I started to dig it in, but then my phone rang again. Something inside told me to just answer it, so I did. The phone up against my ear as I put the knife back into its rightful place. What happened next was nothing. Nothing happened and that's exactly what I needed. We stayed on the phone, knife down but still on the sharp springs, for two hours. Not one of us said a word the whole time, I just needed to not be alone. My tears started and I rolled onto the cold floor feeling so weak and defeated, but alive, barely. My mind had slowed and I knew I could make it through the night, but still I wanted to die. I didn't sleep that night.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 19

List 5 reasons that recovery is worth it.

1. I don't want to be in this loop of self harming off and on.

2. I want my loved ones to be proud of what I've done, how far I've come.

3. My recovery is an example for others in the same situation.

4. I don't want sharp things to rule my life. Blades, you don't really notice much, are EVWRYWHERE and if there isn't a blade you think about all the things you can use to cut, things you can make into sharp things. You learn how to cut with about anything.

5. I don't want to feel ugly as I gain more scars on my body, even if I'm the only one to see them.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 18

Write a letter to the future (recovered) you.

I've been avoiding this question. I just don't have a clue what I'd even say to myself, "way to go, you are 'recoveted', but you wouldnt have to recover if you weren't stupid to cut yourself in the first place." Or "well based on prior 'recoveries', this is only temporary so don't get too comfy" or "you 'recovered' but are still miserable. It wasn't the cutting, it was all of it. You still have a way out" or even "i still hate you 'recovered' or not".... As you can tell nothing positive comes to mind thinking of the future me,the present me, the broken me,the 'recovered' me. Id like to say I'm proud of you, you've come so far, you made it, but that all seems like what everyone else would say. If you haven't caught on thus far, let me fill you in on a secret... I have an extremely negative self image and that's what makes this hard. So, let me see, at least one semi positive thing to the future Sara......I can tell my future self that it was a good idea to talk about such a taboo subject because it has helped so many in their recovery. You've helped so many with your own "recovery".

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Holiday Thought

Where to start...

In general, I hate myself.
This season, I hate myself even more.

Once, years and years ago, I knew how to enjoy thing.
Holidays were great and birthdays felt important and joy filled the air at Christmas.

The smell of Christmas tree, the color of the lights on the houses sparkling against the dark of the night, the crispy grass winter causes in the morning, hanging up decorations, seeing all the gifts laying perfectly under the tree, watching the smiles on everyone faces as they get the perfect gift, wrapping gifts, baking cookies.

I really want to enjoy the holidays.
I really want it to be like it was years ago.

I am just so broken.
This year I have invested myself into a year of giving.
I have asked for nothing, I want nothing.
This year is for the people I love, not me.
I am thankful for the journey I have traveled over the years, thankful I have a wonderful family, thankful that, even though there are a lot of times I just want to yell 'fuck it' and slice my wrist that one last time, there are those times I am thankful to be alive. Thankful for those people who made sure that I stayed alive.

I guess that being alive is just what I want, even just for this holiday season.
I want my people to have an awesome holiday and I want to help that happen.

Don't forget the meaning of Christmas isn't to get gifts.
Don't forget to show your people how much you love them.
Don't forget that this could be someone you loves last. It could be your last.

Be grateful. to be alive.

Day 17

Do you know anyone else who injures themselves?

Everyone knows someone who harms, just because people don't tell everyone that they do doesn't mean that they don't  In my life, I really hadn't personally known (talked to about self harm) anyone until I was in college, except that one adult who had survived it and "mentored" me toward recovery kind of.I had met a friend in college who lived right near me and one day we just started talking. I found out she cut, she found out I cut, and we spent the remainder of the year being each others shoulder to lean on when we were struggling. It was nice having a person who actually understood the battle I was fighting and was going through the same. There was also a couple people I suspected had, but didn't really have any courage to talk about. In the last month of college I found out another friend had been in recovery, a week before school ended I found out that an RA dad harmed here and there in their life, obviously I knew all the people in the psych ward, and a friend that I went to school with, but didn't actually find out til I was back home and it was a year later when we started talking.

Knowing people who harm is a blessing and a curse. You can either help each others recovery or hinder it and it is a fine line. So if you do know anyone who harms be careful as to what you say to each other. Sometimes it is hard not to encourage how wonderful cutting is.

Day 16

What advice would you give to someone about self harm?

This one is plain and simple for me...don't do it. Don't even start because when you do you get hooked and it takes over your world. I have had many days when all I could think was that I would never wish this upon even my worst of enemies. It just isn't a way to live, it isn't a battle anyone should have to endure, so don't even start.

Day 15

Do you visit any websites about self harm? If so, what are they?

There aren't many positive self harm sites out there, but yes, I have visited some of them. I visited one regularly, recoveryourlife.com, for awhile. Sadly, I was there chatting to people, saving them, making sure these complete strangers were ok. I visited the site to help rather than to get help. I think that that made me going to the site kind of counterproductive and made me a bit of a hypocrite, but I needed to help someone because I wasn't ready to help myself.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 14

Is there anyone you consider to be an inspiration in your recovery?

There is a person who has been a huge inspiration to me, but I don't know if its my place to announce that person and their story. I just look up to this person more than anything because they dealt with the same thing I am and after many many years recovered and has a wonderful life and beautiful family. She was the first adult I told my struggles to and was by my side whenever I needed it. I strive to end up just as she has, happy.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 13

What is the biggest realization about self harm you’ve had?

The fact that it truly is an addiction was a big realization for me. Before it's you, you think it's this silly thing people do for attention or whatever reason and that it's just something simple to quit, but it's far from. Like any addiction it controls your life. But I also realizes how much the addiction affects the people who love you. To this day, that fact is dificult to really comprehend, but I've seen it, I've lived it. I've seen so many people in my life hurt by my actions and it kills me, it was never what I wanted. But I've been on the other side too so I know exactly how it feels to feel helpless to help someone in their struggle with self harm. It's just that you'd never expect that something like cutting could hurt so many people.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 12

Where do you keep your ‘tools’?(Your room, in a box, disposed of them?)

I keep my "tools" (such a silly word to use, but I'll go along) in many many places. I made sure to have one hidden everywhere I went; from my bag to the car to books to my jewelery box to everywhere in between. However, speaking in the present, I have disposed of them all except one in my hope box from the psych ward. That one lone blade is kept as a reminder as to where I've been and where I want to be.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 11

Strangest place (school, park, etc) you’ve ever injured yourself?

I have cut myself pretty much anywhere and everywhere, but there is one place I will never forget. I'm ashamed of myself, but I lost it and cutting was the only thing I could do. Where was it?! A chapel. Let me explain before you may judge, when I was at school I'd go walk for hours on end, disappearing from the world, but one night it was real late and far too below zero for me to handle walking. I ended up in the balcony of the chapel on campus and was praying when my brain shorted and I was thrashing around, punching the brick wall, and finally just cut myself over and over right there. I finally fell to the ground, trembling and sobbing, and laid it all out there, shouting at God, so angry. So broken.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 10

How do you feel about your scars?

My scars are my story, my reminder. There are days that I despise them because I feel so ugly and broken and ashamed, but for the most part they're a good reminder of how far I've come and what I have been through.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 9

Have you ever taken pictures of your wounds? Discuss.

I have never taken a photo of my cuts. I don't understand why people do so, but for me, I wanted it a secret and when there are pictures it isn't really a secret only you know, it could be found.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 8

What the most supportive thing anyone has said to you about self harm?

I don't think I can recall any one thing someone has said to me, however I do remember by action. Words never meant a whole lot to me. "im here for you" "you can talk to me about anything" "ill talk to you till you feel safe""i won't let you die"... These things I heard, but they meant nothing until people followed through with their words. The people that stayed in my life helping me, that would talk to me on the phone for hours while I freak out, and those special people who were there when my life was over and not letting me go. So, answer being, nothing supportive was really said to me.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 7

List 10 activities that help you calm down.

Here's where I stand, I think that if you need so many things then obviously they aren't working very well. Choose a couple things that for sure help and stick with it. So here are my top 5.

1 drawing my thoughts

2 painting. The paint between my fingers, all over my arms, creating shapes and feelings. Freeing.

3 writing

4 walking

5 curling up with my blanket

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 6

What part of it do you enjoy?

Well, it's all abou the release of the pain on the inside so I love that I can just cut myself and that rush of calm flows in, even if only for a little while. I like that its something I can control, everything's up to me; the instrument, the size of the cut, where, how deep. No one gets to be in charge, but me. But above all is the sigh of relief after I've watched the blood drip down my skin.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 5

What part of self harm do you dislike the most?

I dislike the secret, which in turn leads to a fear. I hated knowing I had to hide certain parts of my body and be careful not to get touched where I had just cut. For those of you who dont know, that can tend to be quite painful. I didnt like that I was so scared that people would see the cuts, find out, and be grossed out or disgusted or whatever their reaction would be. I just had to keep everything a secret, and that can be pretty difficult when you are constantly hiding away cutting yourself, if you arent careful people start to ask questions and you feel uncomfortable about the whole thing.

Day 4

Do you consider yourself "addicted"? Why or why not.

I am sad to say that, yes, I would say I am addicted. Its actually pretty hard to admit that what I am doing to myself is an addiction, but it would be dumb of me to even bother to deny that it is. I say that I am because, well really because I cant stop. I mean, I can stop, but it takes a lot of work. My mind is focused on it almost one hundred percent of the time and when I do it I sometimes am already planning the next time I get to sit down and dig the dull blade into my skin. Just as with drugs or alcohol, people want to pretend that it isnt a big deal, that they can stop whenever they want, well, I am hear to tell you that that is bull shit. Any addiction, you cant just stop. It takes getting help, fighting hard, and getting yourself used to a new way of living. So, yes, I say I am/was addicted to cutting myself.

Day 3

What is your motivation to recover?

Sometimes I am just so unclear as to why I want to quit. Why would I want to stop something that I love so much?! It doesn't really seem worth it, but I convince myself it is. I need to quit for the people around me, everyone who loves me, who may be effected by my choices. A part of me just wants people to be proud of me, which sounds silly, but it's worth it to know that all the hard work is...I don't know, appreciated. If it's important to others it should be to me as well. Then there is this other part that's all about me. I guess deep down I want the satisfaction of fighting and overcoming something so difficult and scary. It's like, if I can do this then I can do anything. I need to prove to myself that I do, indeed, have as much strength as everyone thinks.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Day 2

What part of your body is most affected by it?

Well, you see, I am willing to share most anything, but for some reason I have never been able to share that simple fact. I find that it can be mine, my secret, if no one knows where the cuts and scars are. It makes me feel in control of at least one thing. I will tell you that there isn't a central point, some places have way more than others, but they're in a lot of places of my body.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

30 Day Challenge

I was wandering the inter-web and I found a thirty day challenge that fit this blog well. Its called the 30 day self  injury challenge. Yeah, that sounds a bit twisted, but really its all about my experience with self harm. I've spoken about a lot of this stuff already, but I hope to go into more detail for you guys.

Day 1
-How long have you been self harming? Discuss why you started.

Well, lets see, I have self harmed for four years and three months, roughly, off and on, mostly on. I have talked about why I started hurting myself, but I started because of depression and the expectations people had of me. That wasn't all, but most of it. I wouldn't really say there is one specific reason, though. I started harming myself by punching brick walls as hard as I could. My goal was to shatter my hand. That wasn't a big deal, I didn't really expect to do anything more than that, but one day it just manifested into cutting. The punching wasn't enough and I deserved worse. I wasn't enough for anyone, a disappointment. I felt like I needed more pain to feel, to escape.

What Thought

So, here's whats up...

I am no longer working twelve hour days, I strictly work with Evan everyday. Having the break is so nice, not feeling so completely rushed all day everyday.

My mind has been wrong. That's all there is to explain it, I just cant think,speak,focus. It is driving me nuts and above all I feel so irritated and defeated. My psychiatrist changed my meds a bit to see if that would help, being on higher doses can do that, and thus far it hasn't worked very well. Still not all here.

I stopped cutting. Then cut again. I had made it almost three months and for weeks all I could think of was cutting again. I would wait and have a feeling of waiting to do it again when really I had planned not to. One day I finally just gave in to that nagging feeling. I only cut that one time, though, and it has been a month since. Obviously it is a big sense of hopelessness, you wanting something so bad, but you just cant do it. Its so hard.

Going into the stores is hard for me. The blades around me, that you can simply buy (or steal), are hard to put out of my mind. Its especially difficult when I need to buy a razor (the shaving kind). I tend to go straight toward the double edged blades, I never get them, but my anxiety makes saying no not so easy. I often wonder what its like not feeling that way in a store, being able to walk past blades without wanting them to carve into your skin.

Thanksgiving is coming up. I'm struggling with the thought that my grandma wont be there this year.

I had hoped that the thoughts were gone. They have been more often lately in recent weeks. I just feel too tired and hopeless to keep going. Some days that just seems so much more easy, good thing I have never been one to choose the easy way. Whether I like it or not, however, I cant quite get the thoughts out.

I'm not sleeping. Two separate sleeping meds haven't worked and so he took me off all of them. I haven't gotten any better or worse, just the same old shitty. I'm too tired to function correctly, the same old story as before. Maybe that's part of my problem.

I haven't been blogging. Obviously. I tend to feel like a broke record. I cut. I didn't  I cut again. I'm broken. This That. It seems to always be the same and I don't feel as though putting you readers through that is fair.

I'm isolated. The world around me is going so fast and I'm in this bubble that's standing still. I cant seem to be outside that bubble.

I want to draw. To paint even, but I cant seem to figure out the pictures in my head, nothing feels quite right. When I just start going it turns into a ball of paper in the trash.

The journey, so people call it, is windy. Curves and bumps and hills and holes and everything else. We have all got a different journey to get through and, for me, its better to share it with people. I keep this blog going for a few reasons, but mainly I just think its so unspoken of and I want to show the struggles, the feelings (im not good with), the path it takes to heal. So, those of you still reading along, thank you. Thanks for traveling this crazy journey with me.

Testimony

Female, 21

Morning number one- how am I going to survive this?

7am-- a couple of pills get shoved down my throat by a nurse. I fall back asleep.
8am-- knock on my door, "breakfast is ready." The last thing on my mind is breakfast. Last night they had me fill out a menu for breakfast-- I stared at it in complete and udder shock. There are what seems like a million options on the paper and the only thing I can think is, I should be dead.

I get up, look in the mirror, my cheeks are flushed and my eyes look desolate. I think out loud and say, "if they are so worried about putting sharp objects in my possession, why do they have a glass mirror in my bathroom?" I am wearing purple scrubs and those damned hospital socks. Walking out into the 'living area', I see my parents-- Starbucks coffee in hand. I mumble 'fuck' under my breath. Walk calmly over to them, I get a warm embrace and see a look of horror on their faces. I grab my breakfast-- biscuits and gravy. I notice I don't have a fork to eat them with, only a spoon. A spoon? Really? Mom and dad stare at me as my tears begin to flow. I just can't get over the fact that I have to eat with a spoon-- wow, I must be really fucked up. I begin to regain my composure and think about diving into my breakfast when I hear a soft voice.

And so it begins.

"Can I speak with you in your room?" I muster up a sure as the tears begin to flow. "My name is Dr. Evans and I am your psychiatrist" she states once we are walking in my room. She finds a seat on the cold tile floor as I sit on my bed. The comforter isn't really a comforter at all-- it feels and looks like an oversized towel. And the camera in the corner of the room-- awesome, they saw me sitting in the corner of the room last night cradling myself and rocking back and forth. I wonder if they heard the screams? Not to mention the bathroom, which has no door. The toilet looks like it belongs in a prison cell and there isn't a shower curtain. My mind is wandering-- she gets my attention by touching my arm. "How are you feeling this morning?" I think in my head, how do you think I feel? I wasn't supposed to be alive today. I don't answer, but I do shrug my shoulders. "Do you still feel suicidal?" I reply hesitantly, "yes." She states that the intake nurse that evaluated me noticed cuts on my wrist. "Can I see them?" My heart stops. Taking a deep breath, I unfold my arms and show her. Examining them she asks "are there any more?" Another deep breath and my heart begins to race. I pull down my purple scrubs and show her my legs. The cuts that I made last night and the scars that spell out 'fuck up' are etched in my skin. "Bless your heart" she says with a half smile. This statement makes me feel almost human, like someone finally has noticed how much pain I really am in.

She asks me question upon question about my past and present-- I know from my studies that she is doing a biopsychosocial on me. "From what you told us last night and your evaluation right now, I am diagnosing you with borderline personality disorder, PTSD, depression, and panic disorder." My eyes start to well up with tears again. "Can you sign a release so I can bring your parents in here and talk to them about all of this as well? I don't hesitate with my answer, "no." She stares at me shocked. "I can't help you then." I am in disbelief. The answer is still no. She half-heartedly listens to me when I tell her-- I'm an adult now and I can make my own decisions. My parents do not need to know every little bit of my life. I would like a bit of privacy. She walks out.

I need to get it together before I go back out there and tell them that I have BPD, depression, and panic disorder. I have decided to leave out the PTSD part because they know nothing of what has happened to me.

9am-- I wipe my eyes and put on a brave face. The nurse finds me as I sit down at the table-- more unknown meds down the chute. My breakfast is gone, I didn't get to eat it. The nurse hands me more menus- lunch, dinner, and breakfast for tomorrow. I have to fill all of these out? I look around for a pen or pencil, go up to the window and ask for a pen. "You only can have crayons… you might hurt yourself with a pen." Awesome, a crayon. I can't fucking wait.

Book Thoughts

In the center of the storm of emotions I found myself on the search for good books to disappear into.

The books I wanted, though, were books associated with self harm topics, fiction and nonfiction.

I guess that I really wanted to learn about what was going on with me and find a bit of release within the pages also.

Here's what I mean, I would read a fictional book, like cut and several others, and someone it would save me from cutting in that very moment, even if that's what I wanted more than anything. I found that reading it was like I was living through the character. They cut and I'd feel it. Not literally of course, but the action in the book let me live through it. That way I didn't do it to myself in that moment.

When it comes to nonfiction books, I just want to understand. Obviously I know a lot more than most of you out there who don't self harm in anyway, but still, I didn't know enough. Why was I cutting my skin? Was I alone? What was the reason I went there? Well as I read through some books I learned a lot. Although it isn't all crystal clear for me, I have a bit of a better understanding of my actions.

Point being, I am going to suggest a book to you guys. If you don't self harm then this book is great for you to learn a bit, get into the heads of "cutter". If you do harm, this book will help put some insight into your struggles, also has a ton of stories of people all over the world and all ages who know exactly what we are going though. (IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED I DON'T RECOMMEND THIS BOOK, SOME OF IT GETS GRAPHIC. HOLD OFF AND READ IT WHEN YOU'RE READY)

So at the moment I am reading it a second time. It's called A Bright Red Scream By Marilee Strong.

If anyone is interested and wants to borrow it let me know, as long as I get it back no problem.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Monster Inside the Dark

*When times are confusing,scary, manic, I write,draw,paint, never sure of what will come of it. Everything comes straight from my brain, I don't think, just let the pen throw things down. So, as I have had a rough week, I was not all in my right mind, this poem is what came of it. I would love to hear what people on the outside have to say about it, good or bad, I don't have any expectations or attachments toward it, just want to see how its seen from a different angle. Also, poem could potentially be triggering, so if that's a problem for you I encourage you to skip this post.


The lights are off
as if I forgot to pay
The light bill again

The darkness is scary, consuming, evil.
There's no where you can go
to get away

It hugs you
tighter than you can handle
Not giving in, refusing to let you free
sucking the breathe straight out of you.

You fight, you push, you pull
The grip only gets tighter
The monster in shadows is real
Once it gets you there is no way out

You only have one choice
Be the sacrifice
Let the monster take you, consume you
Eat you and spit you out
You take your final breathe

The lights are back on
They come in to save you
but its far too late, you're forever lost
They find your lifeless body laying in a bloody mess.

Tears fill their eyes, they are too late
I'm gone, sacrificed to save them all
No one deserves this, all I've gone through
I want them to know it was for them
My blood, the sacrifice

But what is it they see?
What was a monster to me
was really nothing BUT me

Those tight, evil arms of the monster were nothing
but my own anxiety, taking over me
The teeth that digged deep into my skin, a pain undefinable,
was the sharp edge of a brand new blade

I did this.
I lost control.
I wasn't thinking straight.
I didn't care to fight it.
I was submissive to my own internal monster

I wanted blood,
I would stop until I got it.
Once slice, two slice, three
Then it was the end for me.

Blood, Blood everywhere
Red, crimson, beautiful
Sticky against my pale white skin
A cut so deep that I can literally see inside.
My skin opened like a zipper.

I guess I should have opened my eyes.
I should have seen that the monster was me.
Now its too late,
But you can all learn from me,
Let me be your sacrifice
And don't forget to pay the electric bill again.

Armor of Love

We all struggle. Cutting is a dificult thing. It comes in waves and you have to hang on to something, anything to anchor you yo reality. Reality that you can make it. Like every wave, it will pass.

I will admit that I forget that sometimes also. It is hard to think optimistically when the wave of emotions are crushing you, you can't breathe.

The breathe comes back, the strength of desire and hate loosens, at least enough for you to think straight, not give in.

Here is the thing, the other day I was going to cut myself. Hell, who cares about one stupid month. Who cares about quitting, I want what I want. Those are some of the thoughts holding me down. I wasn't sure what to do, but that tiny part rooting to stay calm and make it through, I heard it. A little crowd in my head, all the people I know love me and want me to be healthy.

The people I would never want to let down, the people who would be crushed if I just happened to cut too deep.

So what did I do...

Well, It started with a butterfly. Some words. Then names. Fast they leaked onto my skin, I couldn't stop. Then more butterflies and words of simple encouragement.

There I was, staring at my front to back,side to side, top to bottom covered arm. If I wanted to cut I had to get through them.

It worked. The people I live saved me that time and they don't even know it. You people, you were all there with me, at that moment, holding me close.

So here is what I drew/wrote, although you can only see half of it I thought Itd get the point across, more or less.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

quitting thoughts

I don't want to...

I don't want to NEVER cut again.

It hit me...

It hit me hard in the car the other day.

If I stop, I stop...

No more.

No more cutting.

No more blood beading fresh where I just sliced.

No more feeling quick relief.

It has been one and a half months.

I don't want to.

Don't want to set myself up for failure.

If I say it...

If I say I am quitting for good aloud, there's expectations.

I can't fail.

It's scary, ya know, it's scary to really quit, to lose your security blanket for good. Once that thought hits you it hits like a pile of bricks, it's rough.

I have quit, for good, forever. Ok, even I don't really believe that, but it does feel different this time. My meds are finally the most stable they have been and I feel that it may actually be possible. For real.

I still have my days where the anxiety drowns me and I can't get to the surface, but:

         1. I believe I can hold out

         2. It will end

         3. It doesn't happen as often as           it used to.

I'm just making it, day by day, even hour by h our, just making it through.

As always.

As always just "making it through".

It's like beating a dead horse (aka pointless) why do I write my blog still? Well, I am not too sure anymore. I want ti help, make a difference, byes does my dead horse make any difference at all?

My loop of broken to pieces and wanting to die by my own hand to thinking I can quit and back again.

I feel like I'm just full of shit. Forever struggling and preaching about getting better when I can't myself.

I'm hoping things change this time, hoping I can make it.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Not Alone, We Are All Crazy

I came across this site the other day, it is full of testimonies of a bunch of different people dealing with a number of different things. If you are feeling alone and like no one understands what you are going through, read one, maybe it will help ya out.

http://www.mentalhealthamerica.net/reallives/index.cfm/Recovery

Melody's Thought

What's been keeping you busy of late? What's made you grind your teeth? What's been the most pleasant thing to do?

Comment left by Melody Hensley (a couple weeks ago-sorry). 
I have been busy with work,grandma passing,spending time with my grandpa,just plain old being too tired for anything really. I am no teeth grinder,ha. You know, my grandfather and I are best friends since as long as I can remember, being able to spend so much time with him lately, not under awesome circumstances, but it had been real nice. Also, he works with me twice a week so I get to see him at work and that too is nice.Other than that I have just been busy with the usual, little things in life, nothing real special. I have just been working on me and getting to the place I need to be, think I am in a good place right now, trying not to lose that.

Bipolar Thoughts

As I have written my blog I have covered a lot, but realized that a lot of people dont really understand bipolar disorder. Talking to people,several have asked me in the past weeks so I figured Id do my best to cover it for those of you uncertain about it.

So many people are bipolar, going into Fairfax was a shock to me because everyone had it, it was the norm. Out in the "real world" it obviously isnt something just go ahead and talk about, but still, there are so many people dealing with it everyday. And its different for everyone.

Bipolar disorder is a condition where people go back and forth between periods of a very good or irritable mood and depression. The "mood swings" between mania and depression can be very quick.

And for those who dont know what mania is, it is a state of abnormally elevated or irritable mood, arousal, and/or energy levels. Mania is the opposite of depression, but to the max.

Anyways, most would think that bipolar is simple happy/sad, I can tell you that you are incorrect. When I was diagnosed bipolar the psychiatrist and I talked things over and we came to the conclusion that my highs are furious/angry and my low is depression, major depression. Im sure you can imagine how important it is to stay on that stable line in the middle.

Most all people who are diagnosed bipolar have dealt with mania or hypomania at one time or another. Hypomania usually lasts about four days and is just a lesser version of mania, still unpleasant though.

If you know people who are bipolar, you can tell that their moods are way off sometimes, well, that isnt easy for them (if it was they would be amazing) so be aware. It is a annoying,angering,lonely,make you feel crazy thing to have to deal with. 

Moral is 1) if you suffer from bipolar disorder of any degree, know that you are so not alone, and you arent crazy either. Probably more normal than people who dont have it, but dont tell them that  :) 2) if you don't have it and have to deal with someone who does, be patient. We don't want these feelings just as much as you don't want the after math.

Bipolar shouldn't be taboo or something you're scared to share about yourself. You are who you are, as odd is it sounds, you have to embrace it. Let it just be a part of you.

*If you are struggling and want to chat feel free to shoot me a message.

Passing Thought

As many of you have heard, this morning at 5:15 am, my grandmother passed away.

I am dedicating this post to her.

You know that old woman that has become grumpy and crotchety as years passed? Well, I hate to say, that was my grandma. You just had to love her anyway. For all she taught me and all the laughs we had over my twenty years, I will never forget my grandma Pat.

We all knew that this day was fast approaching, but I guess you cant really pepare yourself for something like that. Twoish years ago she went into renal failure and since had been on dialysis four times a week, she wasnt doing awful, but obviously wasnt feeling completely herself after that . As the years have gone on she became more and more sick, a couple months ago she was diagnosed with Lung cancer. She made it through chemo, but the doctors later found that the cancer had spread into her spine.

For the last several weeks she was going through radiation and was about to start chemo again, but she just wasnt strong enough anymore. She chose to go off all of the treatments for her cancer and her kidney and to end her pain.

I am so proud of her to have made that desicion, it was the best that she could have and I know she was ok with her choice.

The doctors said that the cancer would start to spread, she would sleep more and more, and then one day not wake again. In the few days that she was in the hospital, I heard that it would be a couple months, then within five days, to my mom telling me she had passed.

Today, as a family, we all went to say our final goodbyes and support my grandpa in his time of grieving.

I was, I dont know, scared to see her. I walked in (last) and there she was, laying in bed as if everything was normal, except the fact that she looked tiny in the bed and you could just see all life was gone. It was hard to watch everyone crying and upset, but she seemed peacful and I know that she is more comfortable now, in a better place.

I will miss her so much, she tought me a ton of things, believe it or not I retain a lot of information in twenty years. She definitely taught me patience (for her), and she loved all of us so much.

I am honored to have had my grandmother in my life as long as I did and I can only hope that she is looking down on me now, proud of who I have become.

I love you grandma. I will do you proud!

Just Thinking

Hey Guys,

I haven't been around, but I cant really tell you where I have been.

I realize that that sounds sketch, but I just don't have an explanation as to my absence. I have tried blogging, but nothing really sticks for me, so I don't bother.

I am in a state of numbness, but apparently (says the psychiatrist) that is a good thing.

As far as everyhting else, I am doing alright. We all slip and fall and have to keep going, I have been trying to focus on keeping going.

I will get back at you guys, anything you want to hear fill me in and I will address it.

One Thought

July 17, 2012

One.

One year.

Since I should have been dead.

Would I be a thought in someones mind?

Would people forget me in a mere year?

Would I be someone somebody missed?

There are a lot of what ifs, but none matter because I am alive.

I am not really sure what to write about on this subject.

I feel mixed feelings about today and what it stands for.

This "anniversary" isn't something I want to pass by, that I know for sure.

I feel as though going into Fairfax that day was the beginning of everything.

The beginning of getting better.

The beginning of courage to talk about everything that has happened.

The beginning of my life. As odd as that sounds.

I cannot say that a year later I am feeling peachy keen, but better than I was, yeah.

I also cannot say that I haven't had the thought of killing myself in my head since then.

That would be an obvious lie since I have been in the hospital since then.

I cannot say that I have hope, or faith, or even happiness, but I am able to feel a sense of simple ok now and again.

I cannot tell you that things will be ok. Not to worry. 

I cannot tell you that I have stopped self harming for good.

I cannot tell you that I trust my meds.

I cannot tell you that I am glad to be alive.

I cannot tell you that I don't hate myself or that I find any beauty in who I am.

I cannot tell you that I have found some miraculous purpose in life now that I have been through all that I have.

I can tell you that my story isn't over, nor will it ever be.

I can tell you that I hold on real tight on those difficult days and try to at least feel ok on the others.

I can tell you that I am trying to stop self harming for good.

I can tell you that I do feel as though I am heading in the right direction, slowly moving, but moving nonetheless.

I can tell you that each one of you reading this, and several other people, are the reasons I am alive. Not for me, but for those who love me.

I can tell you that this blog has been more beneficially than I could have ever hoped. And not just for others, me too.

I can tell you that I don't get any of this, why it happened, why to me, how to fix it, if it will ever be better.

I can tell you that I love to help others and my story is how I can relate with almost anyone.

I can tell you that although I hate it, I dont imagine my life any other way, the goods and bads.

I can tell you I have learned a lot about me.

I can tell you I have so much more to learn.

I can tell you I am alive.

I find this day important, if not to anybody, to me. I guess the day you choose your fate should be remembered. 

It was the start of an important chapter.

I cant get anywhere without remembering and welcoming the past as what it was.

My feelings are mixed.

Sobs.

Being glad no one has to just remember me as someone they once knew.

Knowing I still have a long road ahead of me.

Internal Thoughts

You're Stupid

 

You're pathetic

 

You're broken

 

You're beyond repair

You're Alone

No one cares

No one loves you

 

You're worthless

You're ugly

 

You're fat

 

You are never going anywhere

 

You will never be ok

 

You are hopeless

 

Youre weak

 

There's no point

Just give in. YOU DESERVE THIS

YOU DESERVE IT!

Everyone out there has thought at least one of these things about themselves, as wrong as they may be, we believe it. For some reason we choose to listen to the lies our own heads tell us instead of realizing that we are beautiful and strong and flawed all at once. It isnt all about the negatives you see in yourself, believe me I always listen to the negatives about myself, but about the beauty others see in you. Like they say, words can kill, and that goes for the own words that tear you apart inside, YOUR words.

For those of you out there who have dealt with self harm or are dealing with it, you probably hear all these things at once, swimming in your head, pounding the walls of your brain until there is nothing you can do but cut, relieve the words, relieve the thoughts, calm yourself.

I never see it in the moment, so I cant say a whole lot, but those words, they pass. If you hold on through them the pounding slows, you can at least get to a point where you feel stable enough to hang on that much longer, dont give in to them.

You never "deserve it". No one deserves the pain they feel or they put upon themselves. This is a rough thing to grasp, even for me, but there isnt really anything that qualifies as deserving to hurt yourself.

I guess what I am getting at is: "No one has the right to make you feel worthless not even you". Your words hurt you just as much as others words hurt. I need to work on this. Because I am broken and worthless and deserving and...you get it. Something must be changed within all of us. We are all guilty of negative self talk. Be self aware, Im trying to be.

 



Painted Thoughts

When my brain gets scrambled and I cant form words to explain whats inside I draw. Bad news, I lost my sketch book. Not quite sure how that happened, but it did and I was stranded with no out.

I was sitting on my bed when my brain just exploded and I literally shot off of my bed, I went straight to my paints.

Never in my life have I painted, because I am not so good at it, but I said "what the hell". It definitely wasnt going to kill me to try it out.

Discovered, however, that I cant use a paint brush, everything is fingerpainting. As weird as it may sound, I feel closer to the painting, as though its straight from me, my thoughts, my soul, and nothing can get in the way of that when I do it with my fingers, hands, or arms. I go into a whole different world.

As it turns out, its kind of fun to try new things to distract yourself with, things you dont think you would like could become one of your favorite things, no matter how poor the outcome is. So try something out of your comfort zone, chances are youll really enjoy it.

So I really would rather not explain the paintings, you can decipher those as you wish, but here you go, a link to my brain splatter.

The Final Goodbye

I walked in with that old somber feeling, the one that makes me feel like the world is ending, I knew what I was walking into and I just wanted to hold off. Crying is for weak people, I cant cry. I had to stay strong, not let anyone see those glistening tears that threatened to spill over the edge. I took a deep breathe and turned the handle, walking into the cool house like I did every other day.

He wasn't there. Something was wrong. My replacement (she doesn't get a name) filled me in on the delicate situation, you see, autistic kids cant take change. I walked into the yard where Evan was with his grandparents and he was sobbing. My heart shattered to pieces, the feelings that I was feeling inside, he felt it too. He sobbed like I had never seen the poor boy cry before, he too hardly ever cries.

Of course I know how to fix things, but this new girl, she hasn't a clue. Yeah, she will learn, I hope. I calmed him down with a few chocolate cookies I picked up special for him on the way.

Once he was calmed down I spent my final three hours playing with him as if everything was normal, autistic or not we both knew it wasn't a normal day. My replacement fell asleep in the grass, yeah I have so much confidence in her watching him...not.

That last moment had come, his moms boyfriend had gotten there and I had to say my goodbye. With his head down, refusing to look in my direction, he waved me farewell.

I was weak, the whole ride home I sobbed. Tear after tear I couldn't get them to stop, I felt so stupid. I am going to see him again, I said I would babysit any night or weekend they needed, but its hard to say goodbye nonetheless.

Evan went from my everyday to hardly ever. As I write, i cry. I'm broken-hearted by the decision I had to make to take care of myself. I am weak.

B.O.D. Entry 2

*To reader: I am putting a disclaimer on this entry because of some major profanities. It was a very dark time in my head.

I've never tried this before, but I'm going to just write, no thinking, just writing:

anger.hate.death.sadness. fear. alone. completely alone. what do I want?what makes me this way?why do I bother?do I deserve this?I feel like I do. why do I hate myself?why does no one else? Hate.self hate.annoyance.frustration.lonely.maybe scared.I don't think I will ever be ok.Ever.Help! I'm calling for help.what do I do?how do people not feel this way?how did I get so broken?Broken.Extremely broken.No way to repair. Can I handle this? I'm strong.No i'm not, lets be real, I'm weak.always.always been weak.Hurt.No trust.For me. For anyone.bound to be alone.forever.anger.mostly anger.alone.How does it feel?palms sweaty.heart pounding.body weak.Give up.just give up. Is there a point?to holding on?Why?Why do I?Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!Fuck! Help me.body so weak.medicine. Never going to do anything.started tonight.one white pill.sleep.just a bit of sleep. that's all. How do I fix this?How do I become ok?Will I?Ever?No hope.hopeless.broken.in pain.want to die.not kill myself, just die. hand moving.fast.scribbling thoughts.no sense. Is it helping?want to cry.tears tears tears. WEAK. Don't cry.you cant.crying is weak.just cut.give in to it. Let it take over.Why don't I?What stops me?I just don't know.nothing.I know nothing.Save me.....from Myself.

Changing My Life

Everybody wants to do something to contribute to changing the world, do something to change a life, make some sort of impact. For everyone I am sure that the way they want to contribute is different than their neighbors, but nonetheless every single human being wants to feel important.

This here, this is Evan Moore. I watch him every day after school. He is fourteen, is severely autistic and cant really communicate with more than a grunt, he wears a diaper and I have pretty much potty trained him in the last nine months that I have worked with him. He is a good kid, now that I am his person, his routine. 

Going in to this I hadn't a clue what I was walking into, I had never worked with anyone with special needs until Evan and I was kind of thrown into it. I decided to do it, however, because I knew his mom needed someone and I didn't have a job of any kind at the time, and I felt like this is one more way of making an impact in this world, changing the world one person at a time kind of thing. 

Little did I know, Evan changed my life just as much as I changed his. I knew that he needed me, but I didn't realize that I needed him to be in my life. Evan and I have had some pretty tough times, scratches, bites, scars, and all, but as a whole we have bonded in a way that I never knew possible.

Working with Evan has taught me patience I didn't even know was attainable. Everyday is different with him, some happy, some tired, some angry, and some livid, but I have learned to read him enough to keep him calm. Altogether, though, Evan has showed me how important the little things in life are, being able to speak, use a toilet, change my clothes. There have been many, MANY, days that I just want to give up, but then I am with Evan and I have a reason to keep going. His need for me, for the basic daily things, is a major motivator because if I am gone he doesn't have anyone to be his person.

This is why it is killing me to stop working with him, I have seen so much growth in him that has inspired me that its so hard to just stop when he has so far to go. I don't want to lose contact with him completely, but I know that it just isn't healthy to work myself so much everyday and I am always going to be around if his mom needs a sitter.

Evan is my best friend, I spend every day hanging out with him and I am grateful for every moment that I have had with him over the last several months.

When you think you're changing someones life you never realize that they are really changing your life.

Saving Me Subtly

I know I have talked about God and my faith a few times on here, but I guess that when I feel something that has saved me in a moment that I really needed it, you could say it was God, that maybe its worth sharing. Maybe it will mean something to someone else.


This last week has been pretty tough. I have just been pulled so far down and I cant quite lift myself back up, but twice this week have I been saved from cutting. In little, probably insignificant, ways.


First, I had grabbed a razor at work, having full intentions of using it on myself when I was done with work. It was in my pocket all day, wrapped in its perfect little cardboard, waiting for me to unwrap it. I had about an hour left in the day and the guy I was working with asked if I had an extra blade, I'm not sure why he did since the car we get them out of wasn't that far from us, but I gave it to him anyway.


I was going to just get a new one from the car before I left, but they took the car and left before I ever got to it again. I was frustrated. I suppose that I shouldn't be angry with God or maybe it was just coincidence that saved me from cutting myself in the moment, but shoot, I had waited all day and I just needed to do it.


I didn't look for anything else. I didn't cut that day.


Second, I was cleaning up my room today. I was feeling pretty anxious, not really for any reason, but I was urged to hurt myself amongst it all. I hadn't thought about with what yet, but the idea was slowly growing in my head. I all of a sudden realized I was holding my angel penny. This penny, I have had forever, and I have never read what the paper said or had any care in the world about it. I don't even know where I got it.


So I sat down and read this paper. It read:


God's angel in a coin
Is just the ideal place
To remind you that
you're guarded
In each burden that
you face.

For living in this world
does not guarantee
that our lives are filled
with sunshine
Or our days are trouble-free.

So when ours are filled
with sadness
And we need someone to care
its so helpful to remember
that gods angels are aware...

Maybe its coincidence, maybe its God, maybe its just pure chance, I don't know, but nonetheless, it has helped me this week. Take it as it is and take what that paper said and put it into your own life, I think, personally, maybe I outta start caring that penny in my wallet.

ps sorry for the weird white highlight, not sure what happened, but I cant fix it.

Thoughts of Extreme Exhaustion

Ok, I never do this, but...

I am admitting defeat.

I have worn myself beyond way too thin. I just cant help myself, I work and work and try to please others until its literally killing me. I'm at the point, though, that I cant really do anything about it, I cant stop what I am doing without letting someone down, I have gotten myself into a pickle.

Although I know I do it, I am ridiculous and still try to please the whole world and never want to think of myself. 

I am feeling it. Completely. Its taking a major toll on me, both mentally and physically.

Physically, well, obviously my body is just exhausted tired and I move so much slower than usual, especially at work. I must admit that I was so tired this week that I went to go pick up Evan, the autistic boy that I look after everyday, and fell asleep. I was there about twenty minutes early, fell asleep, and woke up fifteen minutes late. I was so angry with myself, its just that I don't have any time to catch up on my sleep and I literally am on the verge of some major dreamage at all times. It kind of makes life a bit complicated and frustrating because I just have no energy to do anything besides get to bed, and I don't even like to do that. I'm just not the full me, I'm never fully present.

My body also just feels sick, stomach, head, whole body aching, I just hurt.

Mentally, I completely notice how much sleep effects the way you think. I have been more depressed and withdrawn lately. I get caught up in my negative thoughts and have trouble deciphering whats real or not. I know I sound crazy. When I do get the urges though, I don't even have the energy to try to fight, I'm just too defeated before I can even stop myself. Thus, I have cut in recent days, but still doing alright, nothing like I was, in fact its only been once. Its just that I am too tired to care, to fight, and that's never good.

I guess what I am trying to get out is the importance of sleep. Duh, you probably are saying, but being tired and being too tired to function in the regular daily activities are different. It sucks, major, to get that far and I am not entirely sure there's a way out. 

I have to do something fast, but I don't know what... I'm stuck.

Goals Goals Goals

In the midst of all the bad, when I didn't think I could go on, someone told me to just simply make a goal. Not a big one, just one you can handle for the time being. What I mean is, well, make a time that you are going to make it to without hurting yourself.

I still catch myself resorting back to giving myself goals, today alone I have made it through three different goals I set for myself. I guess that the only reason that this actually works for me is that I fear failure so much, I want to make it, not screw it up and just be angry at myself, that would make the urge to hurt myself greater, so its actually important to succeed, not just a B.S. idea.

So here's the thing, I need to set myself a new goal. I feel as though I can go quite awhile, but don't want to push too far. So my goal is to make it until I go to bed tonight without cutting. That way I can start completely new tomorrow.

Anyways, I am confident, at the moment, that I can make it tonight. Just wanted to share a preventive skin with you guys, its kind of just something I picked up and works well enough for me.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Are You Talking To Me?

"...And please don't fight These hands that are holding you, My hands are holding you" - By your side, Tenth Avenue North

Id probably describe yesterday as completely awful, miserable, dark. I had trouble making it through the day without hurting myself, which is a hard feat considering I work with blades all day long.

Most of it was just that I didnt ever seem to have time alone or anything to get away and actually cut myself. I dont feel like I even cared, I felt so low, I didnt care about fighting or trying to stop myself in anyway, my head was set and I was going to do it.

When my mind gets like that, all scattered, its hard to focus or concentrate on anything else at all. I mean sure I can be at work and be doing many things at once and having conversations and still Im just not really there.

By the end of the night I was shot. I was ready to curl into my ball of defeat and sob. Instead, I ended up at church where I know there are people I trust and something inside of me told me to give up all the blades that I had in my possession, so I did. It was hard, very hard, and the second I let them go I wanted them right back, but with the help I was given and a self made goal I made it through the night, rough as it was, without hurting myself.

Which brings me to the quote above. I was driving to work this morning, around 6:30 am, still feeling the pain of yesterday, the defeat, the sadness, when for some out of the blue reason I turned the channel to a christian station. Now, I havent listened to the christian station in months and months because I feel like the lyrics are all about doing things great for you and hope and well, just not quite ready for that yet.

The first words were "And please don't fight These hands that are holding you, My hands are holding you".
I didnt know what to think of that, It was as though it was talking to me specifically, stop fighting me, I have got you. I guess it was just something that I needed to hear that very moment. I kept have the melody of that song stuck in my head as a little reminder all day and I think that it made this day a bit easier than the last.


I dont know if any of this makes sense, or even matters, but I just thought that, "hey, there is one of those small things that God does to show us hes there". Thought maybe some of you guys could be uplifted by that.


Anyways, tired and worn, I made it through yet another day.

Thoughts of Prevention

Bear with me, folks. I am writing this post as a last ditch effort to make it through the night. I have already taken all my meds and I am a little bit high, groggy, drugged.

I will be honest and tell you that the amount of anxiety that is building up inside of me is completely unbearable.It starts so slow and you just know its coming, an explosion of blood and calmness and craziness altogether as one. Well that's what it feels like.

Thus, I want to grab the blade and use it. Maybe just one little cut....but wait that wasn't quite good enough, maybe four more....they aren't deep enough, maybe two deeper ones. It really just keeps going in circles, I am completely aware of that, but that doesn't mean I want it any less.

So I sit here, pondering the thought of getting up to get the blade, release the anxiety thats pent up deep inside of me. I want to, I dont, I do, I dont want to.

Ok so heres the deal, I am high on medication right now and just neded to write things down, sorry its confused. Just know, I am certain I am going to make it through this night without the help of the blade. Even if I have to just sit as a pent up ball of anxiety, waiting to fall asleep or go into crazy, I havent a clue what is going on land (kind of the same these days).

Goal: stay in bed, leaving all razor-type objects out of reach. Fall asleep and hope the feeling has died down enough when I wake up.

Love you readers out there, thanks for humoring my blog.

Fly Away

Within all of us is a varying amount of space lint and star dust, the residue from our creation. Most are too busy to notice it, and it is stronger in some than others. It is strongest in those of us who fly and is responsible for an unconscious, subtle desire to slip into some wings and try for the elusive boundaries of our origin. ~K.O. Eckland, "Footprints On Clouds"

The sunniest day of the year, so far, of course I was at work, outside, hot and sweaty and possibly burning. But it isn't just sun, if you pay attention real close there is this wonderful, amazing breeze winding through the cars, rustling in the trees.

I walk towards the QTA, kind of a gas station/car wash at work. The QTA plays as a wind tunnel with even the slightest of breezes so as I got closer to it I lifted my arms, imagining flight. I probably looked ridiculous to any of the guys who could have seen me, but I wanted to fly away.

But why?! Why in the world would I want to fly, I hate heights and I am terrified of birds, none of that sounds fun to me. As I thought about it, it occurred to me that the reason I wanted to fly was to just get away, get away from myself.

I harvest a ton of self hatred and I am not entirely sure that's something I will ever get rid of, so as I "flew" across the lot like a little child, it was just me hoping, dreaming to fly away from me, just me, nothing else. To just lift right from my body. I don't like me, I hate me. Strong word, I know, but I guess its a step up from the self loathing that I used to hold on to.

It isn't a good feeling to hate yourself, it isn't a good feeling to feel like you're crawling in the skin of someone you absolutely hate, I don't want that, not for me or anybody else. But how do you fix it? Is it even fixable?

No, Im fairly certain once you hate someone its not something you bounce back from. Hopeless.

Dont let yourself get that far, focus on your positives, not the negatives. Everyone has an amazing beauty in them, if only I could have believed that about myself when I needed to most. Youre beautiful, dont worry, you dont actually have to believe it because I do.

Marvelous Thoughts

One thing I have missed about life, while I have been broken and depressed, is the ability to marvel. It sounds like such a ridiculous thing, however, years ago, when my head was clear, I marveled at everything. Being a very observant person it wasn't hard for me to see the tiniest of things, and those things are the ones worth marveling.

The reason that I bring this up is because for the first time in years, not only have I felt like I've had "good" days, but I have been able to marvel again. Oh, life is so beautiful if you can allow yourself to see it, Ive known that all along I just haven't been able to actually see it, like I had blinders on that only showed the bad, the ugly.

I don't know, if you cant tell, I have kind of been feeling ok. Obviously I wouldn't really say I'm feeling good, but at this time in my life, the fact that I feel ok at all is astonishing. In all honesty, I don't know how to feel this way anymore, I kind of am worried about feeling a way that is so foreign to me, its uncomfortable.

I feel silly being so cautious of being ok, it should be a good thing, I know that, but its so weird. I find myself going about my business and just wanting to sob, I feel good, but something inside me still wants to just sob, maybe its a good sob, maybe not, I don't know. I am working on all these feelings, they're so different, so not what I am used to, I don't even remember the last time I felt the least bit ok.

As for work and cutting and such, I have been exhausted beyond belief, stretching pretty thin still and I haven't cut  in two weeks or so, I decided I didn't want to keep track anymore. Im just trying to let myself live a little and being at work makes me feel like I am actually doing something, not just sitting around being miserable.

Anyways, I want you to do me a favor. I want you to sit down, look around, and let yourself marvel. Marvel at the way the grass sways in the breeze, the way the mountain looks, the way a little caterpillar moves along a branch, anything, just marvel, whatever you find beautiful. Give it a shot, it wont hurt anything.

Checking in

My posts have been few and far between, I haven't had a whole lot to share. I have been working pretty much seven to six everyday and am pretty exhausted, I crash as soon as I get home, pretty much.

Thing are rough right now, different than they were before, but rough nonetheless. I kind of feel lost, I'm uncertain of whats real or not, makes me feel crazy.

I have scared myself, being to numb to care about anything, too numb to decide whats too much, where is a limit.

Its scary being scared of yourself, if that makes sense to any of you.

A man I work with, Juan, tells me everyday "look at the bright side", "forget about the outcome, enjoy the journey", "what makes you happy", "be happy because God has given us everything we need and will guide us", ok well like I have gone over before, I am a major pessimist, but I try and enjoy my journey.

To enjoy my journey I must look at the small things, big things seem impossible, so when there is something that actually makes me smile, it a little spark I hold on for a long time. Example, the moon. For some reason it makes me so happy, so sometimes I just make sure to take the time and look at something so trivial to the world.

Also, being with people I enjoy, thats a big one. There isnt a whole lot of people that actually make me happy, but the ones that do are wonderful.

I think that seeing those little things is so hard when your brain is only able to see the bad, but it only means you have to work harder to see them and when you do they are that much more amazing.

So remember, Just Enjoy the Journey.

oh my love

Oh my love

You are so beautiful

Your teeth sparkle when you smile

Your fingers feel perfect as they glide across my skin.

Oh my love, youre like a siren calling to me

Im enticed by your beautiful song

One touch and I melt away

One kiss is never enough to satisfy

Oh my love, your kiss can never be compared

You leave the red stain of your lips forever on my ivory skin

You make me feel alive

Like I have never been before

Oh my love, I hate to say

That our time is up, we must part ways

Its so hard to let go, but please don’t make me beg

Lonely Thought

Since there are the very few of you who expressed that you wanted me to keep on, I decided that I will let this little charade go on a little longer. I imagine I will find something to say, tell you guys about my day to day stuff, old journal thoughts that show where I was at certain times.

So here I am, still going.

Something that has really been on my mind the last couple weeks as I started work and everything is the fact that this battle is so completely lonely. Of course I have supporters who want to help me through it, but its all so  inside. There really isn't anything for people to do, I have to get past it myself, no one can do it for me.

Sometimes, I sure wish someone could just do it for me, but that's weak, getting through all of this will only make me stronger some day.

Its tough knowing that most everybody hasn't a clue what I am going through, this isn't something that can really be imagined, understood, sympathized, its something that is so foreign to nearly everyone.

I guess at some point I will actually be alright with the fact that no one really knows, but for now, while im in the middle of it all, I am ,honestly, frustrated.

And for those of you who are going through this kind of battle, I am along with you, we are physically together, well most of us, but as a collective group of people we are always together, fighting and supporting. There always is one person that kind of gets it, if you dont have that, come find me, you deserve that person.

final thought?

Do I end this?

Is there even a point anymore?

I'm in a weird place, which I tend to go ti often these days, and I feel like I'm stuck. I don't feel like anything really matters at all.

So I start to think of this blog and where it is going. Is it doing anything for anyone at all? I've Saud before that one of my goals was to share my story and help others, but I just don't think I'm succeeding with that. I think that its pointless to share my pathetic little story when I know it doesn't matter.

I'm not sure where to go, stop? Keep it going? I'm going to need soñé feed back. Is this blog doing anything, honestly?

Maybe I'm just having a pity party, but I just feel so worn, beaten down, exhausted, maybe like I just can't get things right. I'm just confused about how I feel, I guess...

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4