Silence

I don’t want to talk about this anymore, because I don’t want to stop.

But, I don’t want you to know how bad it is and I don’t want you to report me.

I want to be honest, but I’m afraid of where that honesty will get me, so I’m done talking.

I Slipped

On Friday night. I was home. Alone. I watched Sharp objects.

I drank Deep Eddy’s Lemon vodka.

I broke a glass.

& then I used it to cut myself.

I had no reason to do it. It was honestly just the perfect storm, because I’ve been really wanting to break a glass and see what it would feel like to do so and to potentially use it. But, I didn’t feel anything. I saw the blood, but I didn’t feel the pain. It just felt like it was something to do.

It was also the first time I cut anywhere other than my wrist. But, I wanted the lines to be longer, so I cut the length of my thigh.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. And I’m afraid to tell me friend that I failed, because I don’t want to let them down.

Continue reading “I Slipped”

I’m Not Alone, But I Am

I know that I am not the only person in the world who has gone through a traumatic experience. I get that. I truly do. But, I am the only me who has gone through one. When people say that they are there for you, I believe them I know that they are, but it’s not the same.

I have tried reaching out to support groups or people who have gone through something similar, but that’s also not the same.

What people fail to realize or simply what they fail to tell you is that, no matter how often someone says they will be there for you, it’s not the same as you being capable of being there for yourself.

If that makes sense.

Until, I can wrap my head around the fact that some days will just suck and I have to move forward regardless, it’s going to be hard for me to fully accept support from others.

This past weekend was the closest I have come to in a while when it came to self harming. For the most part, I have been able to distract myself or just not have triggers for a while now. I have just been that busy, which is good. However, this past weekend I felt as if something was wholly off and I wasn’t able to feel like myself.

Long story short, I made it through the weekend without a slip up and I am really proud of myself mainly because as much as I reached out to strangers it was truly to strength from within that kept me safe.

I tend to think the most about my incident when I am in my room on the weekends because for the most part I stay in my hotel bed all day. I also tend to think about what happened when I am at the gym because there was a point in time where I kept running into him. I also tend to think about him whenever I meet someone new that even remotely resembles him. I tend to think about it whenever I hear the words sex, or rape, or backdoor, or virginity, etc. Or even whenever I am out for drinks with friends I tend to think about it. I also think about it at work whenever I am going to the bathroom because I feel as if I am going to be attacked in the stall. I think about him/it whenever I am walking down the staircase. I think about him/it when I am listening to my audio-books or when I am watching TV.

Moral of the story: I think about that night a lot. More than I would like to admit. More than I can admit, because it hurts too much.

What they fail to tell you is that there is never NOT going to be a time when I don’t think about it. And even now when I do I still get that pang in my stomach of just hurt and realization that this truly happened and I wasn’t able to stop it.

See here’s the thing. I know that my friends will always listen to me if I have an issue or a problem, especially when it comes to this, but the problem is they haven’t experienced it. I pray to God they never will.. But, because of that, they don’t get the leaps that my mind takes whenever I am triggered. And let’s be honest, it’s not big triggers, it could be small, but I don’t know how to let them in.

I don’t know how to tell them that even though I may seem fine and I am fine…. enough, that I can still feel not 100%.

I know that I am not alone, but it does feel that way a lot of the time.

Alex

Leaving Well Enough Alone

It’s something I can’t do. It’s something that just don’t think I’ve ever been able to do it.

You know as a child when they tell you not to pick your scabs. I’m the kid who literally  CANNOT help it. The literal definition of a scan is to help you heal:

So, by me picking at it and ultimately peeling it off, I’m essentially slowing down the healing process. This is my life. This has always been my life. And this is what I feel like I am doing right now.

For the past two weeks, I have been happy. Other than the craziness of traveling back and forth between this project and home because of a wedding and almost getting sick as a result of it.. But that’s neither here nor there. 

The point is. For the last two weekends I’ve been in working in New Jersey, but hanging out in New York City on the weekends. I’ve been enjoying life, spending time with my family and friends, eating all the food and drinking when I can. But slowly and surely, I’ve been picking at the scab that has been forming from my last breakdown last month.

However, when I’m triggered or when something comes up, there are times when I am able to just suppress it (ie. not pick the scab). But then there are times when I can’t/don’t want to suppress it and I need to feel all the emotions as much as possible (ie. pick the scab until it bleeds.) As a result, I start to spiral and parts of me hates it, but then other parts of me are oddly satisfied. 

Is it just me? Or does everyone go through something similar?