Archive for the self harm Category

you bleed just to know you’re alive…

Posted in mental illness, recovery, self harm with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 12/03/2014 by doyourememberthattime

self-harm is my abiding companion
it’s that nagging feeling that you’ve forgotten something vital
for me, that sensation is perpetual.

no setback is too small to trigger my blood lust
every emotion brings with it an attendant need to scar my body.

i miss my skin’s various & simultaneous stages of distress
gaping, fresh, untreated wounds
tidy blue stitches
thick scabs, ripe for picking
hot swollen masses of infected cuts.

i yearn for the pain
and
the itch
and
mess
and
blood

i dream of blood
flashbacks are dripping in it
inside my head is a swimming throng of red need.

the desire is pounding in my chest
each beat screams
cut.

not obeying is perverse
wielding a blade would silence everything
as my blood cooled
calm would rule.

Advertisements

listen…

Posted in mental health, self harm, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 01/03/2014 by doyourememberthattime

Today is Self-Injury Awareness Day (SIAD). As expected most of the mainstream mental health organisations have been out in force on social media. This should be a good a thing, but as usual the almost entirely miss the mark. All of the major charities trotted out the same tired recovery narrative with a sprinkling of inspirational bullshit. Did anyone ever manage to quit self-harm by drawing fucking butterflies? I doubt it.
If I sound frustrated, it’s because I am. These organisations are supposed to be for people like me. They are meant to advocate for me, but they are not remotely interested in what I have to say. When I tell them what I need and want, I am ignored. I have approached numerous organisations both directly & through social media to explain that they do not represent me (or the many people I know who struggle with mental illness). I am always met with silence or a patronising we know best attitude.
I don’t want to hear exclusively about teenage girls when discussing self-harm. It’s a stereotype & it makes it perpetuates a stigma that makes my life harder.
I don’t want to constantly hear tales of people who have recovered. I’m happy they are no longer suffering, but their story is not my story. Some people do not get better. Mental illness is a life long struggle for many people. Where are those voices? This representation of mental health difficulties is not accurate or helpful. It creates a misleading picture for people with no experience in the field. Even more problematic is the message it sends to those of who are still ill. It says our lives have no merit; that we will only be worth talking about when we recover.
I’m sick of the success stories. All those wonderful people who fought & won. The ones achieving amazing things. It just makes me feel a greater failure. I want the truth. Publicise blogs like this one. Tell the world the blood and guts reality of this disease. Let me speak. Give me (& others like me) the opportunity to show people they’re not alone. That the daily (hourly) fight to keep breathing is not that uncommon. Our lives are still have meaning & value even if we never get back to work or publish a book or raise a million pounds for charity.
Stop giving me stupid advice. Writing on my arms cannot replace cutting. Ice and rubber bands are just telling its ok to hurt myself as long as it doesn’t get messy. Having a bath will not stop a war raging in head. Ditto a cup of bloody tea. Lavender doesn’t cure insomnia. Painting my nails will not make me love myself.

Most of all, listen to us. We know best. We wake up to every morning. Our knowledge is hard won. Please use it to help others who are suffering.

you win again…

Posted in mental health, recovery, self harm with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 28/02/2014 by doyourememberthattime

I had yet another hospital appointment.
this time with an orthopaedic surgeon.
for the last year or so i have been having difficulties with my left hand & arm.
my gp thought it might be related to my b12 defiecency as i also lose feeling in my toes.
apparently that is a completely separate issue.
my problem is in fact, nerve damage.
damage caused by me.

i have a splint to wear and have injections for the next three months.
the consultant will then decide how to proceed surgically.
i’m not thrilled about having another procedure
but
there is so much more to it.

i feel so very guilty.
i am entirely responsible for this.
most of me feels i don’t deserve to have this impairment corrected.
i feel unworthy
i unnecessarily deplete resources.

worse than that,
i feel that this will never be over.
self-harm will always be with me.
whether it’s the constant desire to hurt myself
or
the ongoing consequences of what i’ve done to my body.

all those years of people telling me how dangerous my cutting was
it never felt real to me.
it’s real now.

i’m living with the damage i didn’t believe i could do
my heart
my hand
perhaps this is my punishment

i should be happy
i always wanted to castigate myself
i’ve succeeded

all i have achieved is becoming even more of a burden
now people i love have another reason to worry about me
i require further medical intervention
i am a drain.

even now, I’m whining.
i’ve done it
i need to live with it.
i could
if other people didn’t have to be involved.

i’m comfortable with pain
i still seek it out.
i am beginning to wonder why i keep fighting the urge
if the shadow of self-harm is going to hang over me forever
why not just give in to it?

the shame
and
the guilt
and
fear
are constant companions

so, maybe i let it win.
isn’t it winning anyway?

i like it, i like it…..

Posted in self harm, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 08/02/2014 by doyourememberthattime

i got pierced.
that’s how it started.
in Australia, i had a dermal piercing just below my collar bone.
i’ve had dermals before, but they always rejected.
they were also fairly painful & a bit of a palaver.
anyway, this time it was great.
the actual piercing was over in minutes
hardly any pain
healed perfectly.

so, when I came home,
i wanted another.
i decided to have my boob pierced.
partly because I thought it looked cool
also, I wanted the pain
and
blood.

i crave blood.
i miss it.
i obsess about having too much whooshing through my veins.
i dream about blood.
i want it
OUT.

i thought the piercing would sate my blood lust a little.
i made one mistake
i watched.
i was curious as to how they were managing to do it so quickly
the answer?
a biopsy punch.
it cuts out a full thickness circle of skin in seconds
like a human cookie cutter.
i liked it

of course I bought one
it was very easy to find on eBay
i started with a small punch
i told myself it was damage limitation.
i’m good at lying to myself.

it’s an ingenious device
just press down hard
and
out pops a bloody disc of flesh.

i like it.
i like that I have to be rough with it
i like how raw it looks
i like feeling some control again
sometimes the skin isn’t completely severed
and
i pull it out the tissue out with tweezers
the sensation is disgusting
and
amazing
most of all, I love the blood.

it’s not enough
i’ve ordered larger punches.
i could be in trouble.

the times they are a changin’ …..

Posted in mental health, recovery, self harm, therapy with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on 31/01/2014 by doyourememberthattime

i haven’t written since i returned home.
mainly because it’s been tricky to clearly define my thoughts & feelings.

i am endeavouring to hang into the lightness i felt in australia.
it’s a struggle.
i have mostly been just keeping my head above water.
And
putting on an impressive show.
i believe I mimic OK rather well.
i suppose i am adopting the ‘ fake it ’til you make it ‘ strategy.

i knew australia couldn’t be an overnight cure.
it has however been a positive force.
i have hope now.
i know happiness is possible.
i am certain a woman i like & respect still exists.

it’s a matter of fighting for her.

i intend to fight.

so, it’s the one day at a time cliche.
exploring new options
and
taking small leaps.

it is terrifying.

I still have EMDR on pause. i’ve discussed it with my psychologist & we agreed not to rip the lid from that box yet.
it will have to happen.
delving into those memories again is an alarming notion.
i remain convinced it is the best route to long term recovery.

whatever recovery means.

i am yet to decipher what recovery consists of.
those around me seem to consider not cutting to fit the definition,
i know that is not the case.

the battle continues in my head.
i hanker for blood,
itch to create mayhem.
i’m still not convinced the urge will ever leave me.
that i don’t deserve punnishment is becoming more feasible.
perhaps I can forgive myself.

recovery is an unrelenting war fought on multiple fronts.

i have to forge a new identity without self harm.

i hope i’m ready.

won’t you please,please help me…..

Posted in depression, family, friendship, mental health, self destruction, self harm, therapy with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on 08/04/2012 by doyourememberthattime

after conducting a small survey with close friends & family members.

i decided my therapist may be correct

i do indeed have an unrealistic perception

of

my situation

 

i am still not entirely won over

but

i’m convinced enough to be

frightened

 

i reviewed lots of the handouts i have received from my psychologist

and thought a great deal about how i could reduce my

self harming

behaviours

 

i wanted to reduce my opportunity

and

my desire

to cut

 

i filled up my week with things i thought i could do

if i really pushed myself

 

i accepted invitations from two close friends

along with already planned time with my little ones

& agreed to look after my brothers dog

 

i kept busy.

i got dressed

i did my hair & applied make up

i ate well

and

attended to much needed housework

i ticked so many of the advised boxes

 

i didn’t want to do most of these things

they were tiring

and

scary

and stressful

but, it’s what i have been encouraged to do.

 

the result ?

 

i feel worse

in every

possible

way

my mind and body are worn out.

interacting with the world has been horrendous

 

i felt close to breaking  last night

i cried for hours

had an episode of vomiting

finally drugged myself to sleep

 

this morning i woke up to the dread of another day

i’ve been on edge

i can’t settle

everything feels wrong

i’m in pain

i feel nauseous

and

utterly exhausted

 

most of all

i am overwhelmingly sad

of course this leads back to my usual destructive tendencies

with all it’s predictable problems

satisfaction is hard to accomplish

and

the calm is brief

 

i simply do not know how to live anymore

neither my own maladaptive

nor

the recommended

supposedly healthy

techniques work

 

i try

i engage in therapy

i take medication

i attempt to follow advice

nothing helps

 

i see the years slipping by

and

i hate myself for wasting them

i am desperate

help me

try to comprehend that which you’ll never comprehend…..

Posted in depression, mental health, self destruction, self harm with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on 20/03/2012 by doyourememberthattime

i had another little crisis

despite transfusion in late december,

haemoglobin had again dropped to 7.6

causing doctor’s to get jumpy

&

start talking about another transfusion

this set me off in a panic

i do not like having blood transfusions

i feel very guilty

other people are more deserving of this blood

that someone selflessly donated

i know i will waste it

i know i will feel horrendous with it inside me

i do not want it.

i don’t really have the option of

saying

no

they will call in a psych consult

which could lead down a road

i can’t

even

think about

my first stupid reaction

is

i must cut

whilst the dr’s decide

i will blood let

i know it doesn’t make sense

to most

but

there is method in the madness

my hb is already low

i may as well be hung for sheep as a lamb

i will hate myself less for shedding my own blood

if i lose enough blood

do enough damage

i may feel sated for a while

with this in mind i set to work

after two disappointing nights

of

slicing

&

producing inadequate wounds

i got angry

with myself

on the third day,

the gp called to say the decided to go with

an iron infusionth e following week

i considered myself free

to

paint the town RED

i felt it couldn’t be that bad

if i didn’t need a transfusion

i had still better fit in as much damage

before treatment

&

truthfully

after two pitiful nights

i needed it

so,

feeling enraged with myself

i set to work

i chose a spot on my slightly less scarred right forearm

i cut vertically

downwards

towards my wrist

everytime i reached a depth i could live with

i elongated the cut

&

started to work down into it again

i got into the most dangerous mindset

where

i can just can’t resist

a little

bit

more

i ploughed through the layers of my flesh

fascinated

with what lay beneath

i watched three distinct fountains of blood

flow into one

sticky

hot

pool

i pulled the wound apart to make the blood spurt higher

i sawed through

some

tough,unknown inner material

and

thrilled

as the spray soared out

and hit my face

when i was finished

i watched

for

i don’t know how long

long enough to become dazed

i had created a a gaping trench

the entire length of my foream

that continuosly filled with blood

and

spilled over the top

i could not stop the blood

nor, could i think straight

i wrapped a towel around my arm

put a huge jumper on top

and

took the bus

yes

the bus

to a&e

i trailed blood into reception

& collapsed in the triage room

i was so ashamed

dreaded trying to explain myself

lay in a cubicle

crying

i had done this many times before

but somehow

i couldn’t control my fear or self loathing.

i received 21 stitches

a transfusion

and

 was hospitlised again for three days

the following week

requiring

another

two units

&

suffering from severe pain

i spent those 3 days in & out of a morphine

induced altered reality

student dr’s were too scared to take blood from my arms

apparently experience is required

to find a vein in this network of scar tissue

the consultant was overly kind

fellow patients

stared & whispered

i lay there in

shame

pain

fear

all of which added up to

another attempt

to stop

11 days

and counting……