Self Inflicted Pain

December 6, 2014

Self-inflicted wounds are sexy. There’s something about the way the blood looks on top of a cut, etched on creamy skin and knowing that it was done intentionally. It’s just beautiful. It’s like art, almost. You might find it repulsive, but I don’t. To me, it shows power. It’s oftentimes the only thing you can control. How deep do you want it to go? How long of a cut? Where would you like to cut on your body? How much do you want it to hurt? What do you want to cut with? Do you want it to be a razor that glides smoothly across your skin or would you rather have a serrated knife slowly tearing you open? It’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful. It gives you such a wonderful sense of relief. The adrenaline that races through your body is empowering. It doesn’t even have to be cuts that are sexy, you can scratch or burn yourself and it will be just as attractive. This might sicken you, which just means you’ve probably never done it. Once you feel that glorifying pain, you’re addicted. I’ve been addicted for years now. There’s just something about it that keeps drawing me back in. I’m not condoning it in any way; it’s not okay. Self-harm is not okay; if you use it as a coping mechanism then you need to seek help immediately.

I scratch myself on my arms and I cut myself on my hips. I can make up excuses for the scratches, that’s why I allow them to be semi-visible. Not that I go around flaunting my scars like, “oh look at me! I hurt myself!” If you ever want to know how bad off I am, look at my hips. That’s where I use knives to cut. I prefer knives to blades because they hurt more. It takes more strength to cut yourself with a knife. It usually doesn’t bleed as much either, so clean up doesn’t take as long. And it burns afterwards so much more; I love to enjoy the pain. Sometimes pain is the only thing that keeps me alive.

I have so many thoughts that race through my head constantly; it’s hard to keep a train of thought going. My mind just jumps all over the place. Sometimes I don’t know how to put my thoughts into sentences because they’re so complex. I wish I could just open up my mind for you to see it all, it really is amazing. It’s a beautiful thing filled with wonder and darkness. If I were artistic enough, I would paint a picture of it. I feel like all of the struggles and emotions can be represented by colors, but I don’t know how to arrange them. This all sounds so silly and probably doesn’t make any sense to you, but it does to me.

Today is a good day; I can see the beauty in the world again. It’s amazing how I can use my fingers to type out the thoughts in my head. Watching each keystroke is just amazing. Technology has come so far. Humans have come so far. I can express my emotions, feelings, dreams and fears all through the organization of letters into words and words into sentences. It’s so beautiful. Everything is beautiful today. I love days like this; it makes me appreciate my life so much more. I wish I could have good days every day but I guess the bad days just make me appreciate the good ones so much more.

Like, can I just write forever? Every thought that pops into my head, just put it down on paper. I promise it would be interesting. You can see the ups and downs I go through every day. There won’t be any two days that are the same. Some will be really good and you’ll see all the positives in my life, but then some will be very bad and you’ll get to see the demons that lurk inside me.

Everybody has demons that haunt him or her. It could be something that they’ve done, something they’ve gone through, someone they’ve encountered or even just their mind pulling tricks on them. I’m here to tell you that you’re not the only one who struggles with this. I have really demented demons inside of me. You wouldn’t believe the things they try to tell me. Today, I feel like I can fight these demons and overcome all the obstacles life throws at me. Tomorrow could be a whole different story though. Hell, an hour from now I could be struggling with my demons, I never know how my day is going to go.

Let’s take a look into my past so you can see just how delusional I am. This is something I wrote referring to my relationship with my husband.

“I am absolutely terrified. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been in a relationship this long. I don’t know how to handle being loved. I don’t know how to deal with the possibility of something going wrong. I have NEVER depended on another human being for love or support. It’s really hard. I don’t know if I even like it. I prefer to be self sufficient and independent. Before this, all I ever meant to any guy was just a hook up. I can handle that! Being used, mistreated, abused; it’s what I lived for about 6 years. That is all I know. Yeah, it bothered me that there were other girls but so what? The guys weren’t mine; I couldn’t do anything about it. It was easier that way. I didn’t have to worry. I was always receiving attention, something that is rare now. Being used and abused and mistreated made me feel like I was actually WANTED. Actions speak louder than words. It was almost like I was NEEDED. I don’t feel that way anymore. I’m terrified. I love Seth with all of my heart but it doesn’t feel the same. I know he loves me; I have no doubt in my mind. The question, though, is does he want me?”

I was so delusional. I thought that my husband, boyfriend at the time, didn’t love me and that all of the guys who used me and mistreated me did. If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t have taken care of me when I didn’t have a job. None of the other guys did anything for me. We aren’t together anymore, though. He left me for another girl after two months of being married. He told me that he wished he “hadn’t let it go on that long.” But that’s a whole other story.

I don’t even know where I’m going with my writings today. I think I want to tell you that things get better? They do. I promise. But then they get worse again and you hit rock bottom all over. But then they get better again! It’s like a never-ending roller coaster of ups and downs. I don’t want to talk about what happened with my husband. Not today, at least. I feel like I’m supposed to reassure you that things will be okay, because they will. It will just take time. You’ll have good days and you’ll have bad days. But in the end, things will be okay. You just have to hang in there and try to stay positive. I know, you don’t want to hear that right now. Nobody ever does. You just want to be sad or angry or both and just wallow in self-pity. That’s okay, but only to an extent. Don’t hurt yourself, or anybody else for that matter. I want you to know that I’m here for you. If you’re religious, pray. If you aren’t, listen to music. But don’t listen to music that will make things worse, please. If you don’t like music (who doesn’t? well, besides my sister) then write. It really helps. Just write everything you are feeling and get it all out. Nobody has to see it; you can keep it to yourself or share it like I am. Who knows, maybe somebody needs to hear what you have to say?


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