Archive for cut

i’ve lost control again…

Posted in chronic illness, depression, self harm with tags , , , , , , , , , on 19/11/2014 by doyourememberthattime

i’m ill
oh, i know, i’m always ill
but it usually ebbs & flows.
i get some respite
i used to have days when i felt i like a normal person
not
anymore.

i’ve been sick every day for months
i’m exhausted
i ache, everywhere
i threw up
a lot.

my body has decided that i am no longer permitted to eat
my weight is plummeting
and
i have no control.

I HAVE NO CONTROL

as a result, i have shut down
because i cannot function without control
with every pound i lose
i feel like my actual self is diminshing
i am just fading away.

i rarely leave the house
i barely move at all
i can’t function
i can’t write
i can’t even cut with any efficacy.

i lack the strength or energy to assert dominance with a scapel
which means i’m lost.
i have to lie down to it
i don’t have any other options.

Advertisements

novocaine for the soul…

Posted in chronic illness, mental illness, self harm with tags , , , , , , , , on 12/08/2014 by doyourememberthattime

I’ve been really ill. I have a virus that my compromised immune system cannot fight off. This virus is kicking my arse. I am constantly exhausted, everything aches, dizzy, cold, nauseous, the works. This has been going on for weeks & I’m at the end of my tether.
Enter, self-harm.
I think perhaps feeling so helpless played a part, but mostly I don’t know what happened.
One cut turned into two turned into me practically dissecting my entire left arm.
I don’t feel anything.
There is no relief
It doesn’t feel right
Or wrong.
Yet, I feel compelled to continue.

The voice in my head that pushes me hurt myself has taken over
It’s not the same voice.
There is no emotional involvement
It is simply an obligation I must meet
I am measuring blood loss
When I reach my target, I may stop.
I don’t know what is happening.
But
I am not afraid.
I feel still.

all you need is me…

Posted in self harm with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 06/04/2014 by doyourememberthattime

i have been cutting sporadically over the last few weeks.
it hasn’t felt like a complete return to self-harm as it’s been contained.
i had expected to feel guilt
perhaps a sense of failing
but
it has been gentler than that
it feels like returning from an arduous journey & climbing into my own bed.

this past weekend has been different.
my cutting has become more insistent
i’ve begun to make demands of myself
at some point in the early hours,
the notion of being in control again took hold.

as I marvelled in the restorative wonder of hot blood
i realised i could seize back power
i could watch my haemoglobin levels plummet
all the heavy, guilt ridden blood could be let
opening garnet stripes
as I reclaim my body

these thoughts were exhilarating
and
with them came plans
schedules of pain
strict timetables to be adhered to
rules that if obeyed would bring comfort.
finally, I can breathe

i want to feel every slice of my flesh
and
monitor every drop of spilt blood
i need the hurt
my body must be a battle ground
if my mind is to stand any chance of a lasting peace.

i’m in charge again.
i can’t tell you how much I have longed to sink into this well-worn mattress.

this is me.
this works.

the blood jet is poetry and there is no stopping it…..

Posted in depression, insomnia, mental health, mental illness, self destruction, self harm, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 22/03/2014 by doyourememberthattime

i’ve been up all night
thinking
listening to sad songs
reading brutal tales
i suppose it was only a matter of the time
in the end, all it took was
two words

a couplet that lit up the relevant part of my brain
one evocative phrase that kicked started this whole sordid ritual
words that gave me license to bleed

i needed to bleed
i had to feel the very pulse of life
the pure, vibrant strength
of my will.

if only for right now,
i have reclaimed the power that resides at my core
i am once again the most authentic version of myself.

as my blood washes over me
i turn up the volume so the melancholy music can fill my head
and
my tears finally flow.

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.

blood on the rise, it’s following me….

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 10/06/2013 by doyourememberthattime

i cut.
265 days. Void.

in the end there wasn’t any particular trigger
i had bad day
no worse than the few that went before it
a flip just switched
i started to feel like I could
like I should
and
that was that

i had been so scared of forgetting how
i thought I might get rusty without the continuous practise
i needn’t have worried
it had never been easier.

I intended to take my time,
make a small cut
dip my blade in
but
the blood flooded my senses
i was in deep before I was even properly aware of it

it felt good.

the blood under my fingernails
the little globs of yellow fat on my hands
the pulsing blue network
the pain
the calm

i expected to feel worse
i’m a little ashamed
i don’t want people to know
but
if this could be my secret
i’d happily dive back into the self-destructive depths.

constant craving…

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on 03/05/2013 by doyourememberthattime

i almost cut today.
i got out my box. lifted the lid on the intruments i have missed so much.
that tin smells of blood.
i like it
i selected a scalpel handle & fitted a sharp new blade.
i spread a towel for the much anticipated blood.
i took my time finding the perfect spot.
somewhere soft & inviting.
a patch of skin eager to submit.
i sterilised my skin
and
sat there for hours.

i wanted to make that cut almost as much i wanted to be alive.

opening that box felt like coming home.
breathing in the aroma
feeling that scalpel in my hand
i was back where i belonged.

the thought of that first incision
the crimson emerging,
slowly sliding down my arm.

my heart is racing now at the thought

i want it.

i want blood
&
gore
&
pain
&
scars

i want stitches
and staples.
nerve damage
and infections.

i crave it so badly that i can hardly breathe.

i nearly cut today,but i knew if i started
i wouldn’t be able to stop.

i thought about the life that might be possible
and of all the people i’d be letting down.
i thought of athena
and
i put that box away.