Archive for hurt

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.

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i know you care…

Posted in love, motherhood, relationships, romance, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 22/03/2014 by doyourememberthattime

You’ll never read this. You will never know how much I love you. How much I would sacrifice for you will remain unsaid. It doesn’t mean it’s not real. Not saying it out loud won’t prevent me from going to sleep with thoughts of you every night. Even when I’m not alone, my last waking moments are filled with you.

I compare every man I encounter to you. They never meet the grade. I don’t know if you will ever stop being my measuring stick. It’s not because I consider you perfect. I see your faults. You drive me crazy. It doesn’t matter. I see you and you’re what I want.

It’s such a cliché, but I’ve never known anyone who made me feel the way you do. Every time you kiss me is as exciting as the first time. The slightest touch, that stern look, the sound of my name on your lips and I melt. And the sex, oh god, I will miss the sex. I never want you to stop talking. I will always want to know more. I devour your details. You make me feel like the me I used to love. I’m smarter & funnier & kinder & sexier in your company. When your eyes fall on me, I feel real. I feel like I am worth something. I’m not sure that you even know that. I wish I could find the words to tell you.

I hid all my dirty secrets from you, thinking you’d run. You never did. You accepted things you never wanted to and you haven’t held it against me. You know how truly fucked up I am, but you still see the whole picture. You’re there for me in quiet ways. You don’t send flowers or make a fuss. You know when I’m desperate. You know which two strokes of the keyboard can reach me. A genuinely nice man is hard to find, but you are. No matter how hard to try to hide it or shirk it, I know.

I’m pretty sure you see right through me & you’re not half as opaque as you believe you are. I could be happy with you. You don’t want to admit that you need anyone at all, but I’m almost certain you could be happy with me too. I don’t want anything much from you. All I’d need is for you to keep being odd & charming & difficult & honest. I’d do everything within my power not to hurt you. I’d never ask you to be anyone, but who you are. I don’t need you to slog away in a job that makes you miserable. Do whatever you like. I don’t want your money. I’d never ask you to take care of me in that way. I’m not that woman. You know that.

I know how futile this is. I am aware that none of this matters because there’s one obstacle we could never overcome. You do not want to be a father. Playing happy families is not for you. Sadly, if there’s one thing I want more than you, it’s a child. My heart pines for you, but every cell in my body aches for baby. It’s not your fault. You’ve never deceived me or given me false hope. I had oh so many opportunities to walk away.

I’ve tried. I really put myself out there. I’ve been on so many dates. Some of those were really cool guys. Men I saw again & tried to forge a relationship with. A couple of times I even started to consider being over you. It never lasted. Never worked. They’re never a match for you. I hold onto the hope that someone will sweep me off my feet & I will forget all about you. I wish he would hurry up because I can’t stop loving you on my own. My attempts have universally failed. At least part of me wishes for the mystical Mr right. The bigger part just drips in sadness at the thought of not being in love you. I’m still not ready to write you out of my happyily ever after.

If I can’t have you, I still want you to be happy. I want you to be loved by someone who can give you the life I can’t. I know you’ll meet someone. There is no way for me to prepare for that. It will tear me in two, but we can’t continue like this forever.

Just don’t let her shrink you. Don’t keep doing things that make you unhappy to please someone else. Don’t conform to her tastes. Please don’t let a woman tame you again. You don’t belong in a tight little box. That’s not love. You have edge. Always keep your edge.

I will never tell you that you are the love of my life. I will most likely never know exactly how you feel about me. That’s probably for the best because there is nothing you could say that would make it better. I know you care. That is enough.

everybody’s talking at me…..

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on 15/04/2013 by doyourememberthattime

this morning i got on a bus.
i paid my fare
smiled politely at the other passengers
sat down quietly.

i wasn’t in anyone’s way
i wasn’t rude
or
loud
i was just minding my own business, getting to where i needed to be.

apparantly,
my mere person was offensive.
my exposed arms
somehow enough to warrant censure.

a complete stranger took issue with my scars.

i was aware of her noticing & staring at my arms,
i’ve grown used to this sort of behaviour
& tried to dismiss her rudeness.
but
the stares became glares
and
she was visibly annoyed.
i felt uncomfortable, but was able to zone her out.

alas, she felt compelled to express her judgement
as i walked past her to leave the bus,
she hissed that i should be ashamed of myself.

i reacted by asking her if she was ashamed of being a cunt.

this is how i usually respond to such comments.
i make an angry, sometimes comic retort
&
quickly get on my way

i don’t want these people to know how much they hurt me
or
how the shake my confidence.

most of all,
i never want them to be aware
of just how ashamed i am

i’ll never know why my personal struggle anger others
or
why strangers believe that my body is their business.
i do know that shame is a common theme. they want me to cowed
&
hiding
&
sorry.

i hope one day i will be unconcerned by these encounters
today is not that day
i came home & stayed home.
i doubt i’ll go out tomorrow either.

because shame & guilt are what make my world go around.
i don’t need the negative reinforcement.

i hurt myself today…

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 14/03/2013 by doyourememberthattime

i haven’t cut in 175 days.
i couldn’t say with complete confidence that it’s a good thing.
the last few weeks have been bad.
i feel as though i’ve taken a thousand steps back.
i am so lost
and
scared
and
desperate to hurt myself.

the self imposed ban on cutting was supposed to improve my life
i was told i’d despise myself less
i would discover i had some worth
the need to destroy myself would disapate.

bullshit

last night i beat my hand with a marble pestle
i’m fairly certain i’ve broken some bones
but
i can’t stop
i watch it puff
&
swell
&
bruise

i finally win a little peace

i can escape from the fear
there has been so much fear.

someone knocks my door
& i find myself hiding in the office
heart racing
hands sweating
terrified

of what, i have no idea.

the fear doesn’t actually need a trigger.
i wake up afraid
scared of having to get through another day

there are so many days
most with no purpose
no joy
no meaning

pain has meaning
inflicting pain upon myself is natural
it’s right

so, i haven’t cut in 175 days
but
i’ve hit myself with a hammer
torn off toenails
pierced my flesh with needles
pressed salt & ice in my skin until it blisters
broken finger bones….
the list will go on
i will always find new ways

” i cherish the revolting thought,
that even i quit,
there’s not a chance in hell i’d stop “

memories, in the corner of my mind….

Posted in love, trust with tags , , , , , , , on 01/09/2011 by doyourememberthattime

i remember the first time i saw “the way we were”

 i was around 14 

 i watched it with my mum.

i  identified with katie so much,

she was so passionate,

she cared

 and

she was willing to do something about it

 

 as the story unfolded, i fell in love with katie & hubble.

 i believed in them.

 it broke my heart when it dawned in me that they wouldn’t end up together

 i cried

and

 at the end i wailed, but they still love each other.

 

 mum said, LOVE ISN’T ALWAYS ENOUGH.

 

 i couldn’t get a grasp on that concept.

 my romantic ideals could not comprehend a situation where love wouldn’t be enough.

 

 i miss that naiveté.

 i miss being able to believe that love could change facts

 and people

 and everyday.

 

 it’s a lesson i wish i didn’t have to learn

but

 i’m all grown up now

 

 mostly

 

 i’m still a katie girl

 i still know what i stand for

 i still i know what i want

 and

need

 

sadly, that’s what prevents love from being enough.

you do it to yourself…..

Posted in comapassionate mind, depression, family, mental health, self destruction, self harm with tags , , , , , , , , on 03/07/2011 by doyourememberthattime

i appear to a have a gift for self destruction.

 i have already explored more than enough avenues of self abuse

 and

 yet

 i find myself creating opportunities to hurt myself

 what’s more,

 feeling a sense of smug satisfaction that i have so much power

 sick

 i know.

 

 it doesn’t stop me

 i hate myself

 i am so tired of being me

 inflicting more damage on my body is incredibly stupid

 i am aware of that

 and

 i hate myself for that too.

 

 no matter how bad life treats me,

 i just have to go one better

 you would think i would fight against my bad luck

that, i’d meet illness with rest

 trauma with kindness

 sadness with comfort

 tradegy with compassion

 perhaps

 normal people do

 my response is a tad more savage.

 i can not tolerate these emotions

 i can not process anymore awful events

 i feel responsible even when i am not

i live in a constant spiral of guilt

 and

 so

 i stick the boot in

 i punish myself

 i create another emotion

another sensation

 another crisis

one that i can control

and

manage

 

of course i am deceiving myself.

 i lost control a very long time ago

 i go too far

 i never know if i can manage the outcome

 i never know the long

or

short term risks

one more reason to dislike me.

 

 i am trouble

 a pathetic burden to professionals

 and

personnels

 

 i’m sick in body and mind

 no one knows how to cure me

 least of all me.

snippets from my diary (aka i can’t get the thoughts out of my head in any coherent way)

Posted in depression, insomnia, love, miscarriage, self destruction, self harm with tags , , , , , , on 23/03/2011 by doyourememberthattime

23rd dec 2006

still here, still fucked. still hacking away at myself. still hiding in sleep. still watching sad movies & reading sad books because it’s easier to cry about someone else. still craving the blood. still loving the sensation of it trickling down my arm, dripping off my fingers. still in awe of the pool it creates on the floor. still nothing to equal the wet, slippy, warmth of it. still no release like watching the red spring from my pale skin, following it’s bright path on my flesh, tracing it’s way to my finger tips. still need that sharp heat as the scalpel slices my skin, the pain as i scrub the blood from my body. still feel the fear every time i cut a little deeper & the satisfaction that follows. i still live in a world marked with my blood. bloody puddles in the carpets, red reservoir in the sink. still blood on every door handle, every light switch. my crimson hand print still visible on the bathroom wall. still indulging in the ritual,stockpiling the blades, collecting the blood soaked rags. still searching for something sharper.pushing for something deeper. still, desperate for more blood. still here, still fucked.

26th dec 2006

i feel blue.i feel it welling up inside me. i know soon i’m going to be overflowing with emotion. the room will be flooded with bleakness & i’ll be drowned. i want to cry. i can taste the tears in the back of my throat.my heart feels bigger. like it’s swollen with sadness. i don’t know why i feel this way.i’m fairly certain  could reduce the swelling with my scalpel. just writing the words has started the buzz in my stomach. my body’s gearing up for carnage. this isn’t just in my mind. i want this from the pit of my stomach. what kind of crazy does that make me ?

19th feb 2007

cutting instead of sleeping again.been working on my arms for about an hour. i’m not sure if i can stop yet. watching the wounds fill with blood is soothing me. waiting for it to spill over & run down my arm. i used to watch raindrops on windows do the same when i was a wee girl. i liked it then too. there is something very wrong with me. earlier i looked out the window while i smoked a cigarette. i stood there trying to identify what i feel. searching for a name for this emotion. what i noticed was that all the other houses i could see were asleep. curtains closed, no lights. the street is quiet.i couldn’t help, but think of all the people in those houses and in all the houses in all the streets. they’re all sleeping peacefully. sunday night, alarm set for work in the morning. just sleeping. not staring out a window tearing through their minds. not sitting in bed tearing through their skin. why is it that they can manage it & i can’t? where did things go so wrong for me ? i read a trashy sunday paper that my brother’s friend left. britney has shaved her head. the tabloid’s view on why ? she is having a mental breakdown. she’s a fucking nutter. all she did was shave her hair off! can you imagine what headline they’d write about me ? if anyone actually cared to write about my life.i’m listening to “everybody’s gotta learn sometime” by beck. i love this song, it’s beautiful. it was in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. it’s one of my favourite films. the premise of it is that you can have your memory wiped. so this couple end up having their memories of their relationship wiped. problem is they meet & fall in love all over again. i love that film. i love that they can’t wipe out the love. as much as i love it, it just reinforces what i know is true anyway. i can’t change what i am. even if i could do it all over again, i’d make the mistakes. i’d wind up right back here . i’d still be spilling out my thoughts on a computer screen in the middle of night. i’d still be spilling my blood. now once you know that, where do you go ? i have no idea how i fix this. i don’t even know where to start. i know i can’t stop right now. that doesn’t scare me so much as the realisation that i don’t think i want too. i try to imagine a time when i won’t need to this. all the things i’d need to stop seem impossible. i’ve lost my ability to trust that things will be ok. not everyone gets a happy ending. some of us are miserable. some of die without fulfilling our dreams. some of us sit up all night trying to bleed out their problems. some of us are fucking crazy. 
  ” & i cherish the revolting thought,

that even if i quit

there’s not a chance in hell i’d stop.. ”

13th april 2008


the more i talk to the pysch the more i’m realising i used to be a different person. i liked that person and i can’t quite believe what i’ve become. almost every topic we discuss results in me admitting i feel giulty.always guilty. guilty for letting everyone down.guilty for letting myself down. i failed at the most important task ever given to me. i’ve just kept on failing ever since. i don’t trust myself not to fail.
it’s been so long, but i am still so angry.i blame him doing this to me. i blame me more for letting him. she gasped as i recounted the whole story. how could anyone behave that way and why did i let him ? he took the most important thing in the world from me.i could never prove it was his fault, but i feel it, i know it. i can’t ever forgive him. it’s why i’m alone. i can’t risk anyone being that important again. i can’t trust anyone not to shatter me again. i can’t trust myself not fail. not to forget who i am and risk things that should be protected at all costs. i should have been stronger. i should be stronger now.
i don’t know how to stop hurting. stop missing what i never had. stop feeling guilty about all things i am not.
what i want most in the world is to fall in love and have a family. i don’t know if i can ever have the courage to really try again.how could i trust him not to let me down and how could i trust me not to let us all down ?