So, summing up the past couple of weeks, I can say that the men in white coats aren't coming for me just yet. In fact, being a scientist, I have a white coat of my own, so I've got that covered.
The last couple of weeks have been difficult at work, and I haven't had a chance to sleep much or do anything particularly enjoyable. That situation is now (hopefully) over, and I can get back to normal patterns of activity. I was aware during that time that I badly needed to do some falling apart, but there was no room for that in my life and it had to wait. That kind of resolve is not long term, and there was one morning when I had to sit on the sofa for a bit and accept that I was going to be late for work because it was either that or have the department see me in tears.
To celebrate the craziness being over, I stopped off at Tesco on the way home and bought a small (yes, it really was small) bottle of Somerset cider. It seems that I have no tolerance for alcohol these days, because that was enough to have me lying flat out on my bed with a stupid smile of drunkenness on my face. The smiling did not last, especially not when I broke out the Sarah McLachlan playlist.
(Note: I don't find music in itself to be depressing, but when I know I need an emotional release, it can help.)
And here we come to the resourcefulness of the practised self-harmer.
February 16, 2012
February 05, 2012
I don't like sharing my life.
Or perhaps I should say that I'm very fussy about who I share my life with, and I haven't someone satisfactory yet. I find that most romantic relationships are exciting for a week or two and really lift me up, but soon become a burden, emotionally and physically. Emotionally, because suddenly I have to consider somebody else's feelings, opinions, schedule, long term plans... And physically because I work long hours; fitting a new person into my life is awkward. Most people do not interest me enough to get round this.
The highs and lows of a new relationship play havoc with my mental state. I'm much more balanced when I'm single, but after a while I find myself craving the comfort of curling up with a warm body in the evening. And I miss the sex.
Close friendships are a different ball game. In the past I have been stuck in a close friendship of convenience, and it grated. It was like a romantic relationship but without the fun bits. Or the ability to dump them when I got fed up. I would really like a good friendship with a man, because their opinions can be quite refreshing and blunt, but I wouldn't trust myself not to sleep with them.
Nobody knows that I've started self-harming again. Not a single person in the world. That's how I would very much like it to stay, although naturally a boy/girlfriend would find out pretty fast. I have a friend who knows that I used to have problems (she saw the scars and asked me about them) but since our one and only conversation about it, I've steered her away from the topic and have no desire to talk about it with her. Not only would she be unable to comprehend why I did it, she is also likely to piss me off by screwing her nose up at it and (therefore) act like it's a disgusting habit.
There is only one other person who has broached the subject. He did it rather unexpectedly, taking me by surprise so much that I didn't know whether to lie or tell the truth. He took the pause as an admission that his suspicion was correct. As we were both drunk at the time, and it was in danger of turning into a lets-have-sex-to-make-you-happy situation, I brushed it off and sent him home. We haven't talked about it since, and we're not close.
Perhaps that's why I'm using the internet as a sounding board. It's great; I can babble on for as long as I like and I don't even have to make an appointment!
The highs and lows of a new relationship play havoc with my mental state. I'm much more balanced when I'm single, but after a while I find myself craving the comfort of curling up with a warm body in the evening. And I miss the sex.
Close friendships are a different ball game. In the past I have been stuck in a close friendship of convenience, and it grated. It was like a romantic relationship but without the fun bits. Or the ability to dump them when I got fed up. I would really like a good friendship with a man, because their opinions can be quite refreshing and blunt, but I wouldn't trust myself not to sleep with them.
Nobody knows that I've started self-harming again. Not a single person in the world. That's how I would very much like it to stay, although naturally a boy/girlfriend would find out pretty fast. I have a friend who knows that I used to have problems (she saw the scars and asked me about them) but since our one and only conversation about it, I've steered her away from the topic and have no desire to talk about it with her. Not only would she be unable to comprehend why I did it, she is also likely to piss me off by screwing her nose up at it and (therefore) act like it's a disgusting habit.
There is only one other person who has broached the subject. He did it rather unexpectedly, taking me by surprise so much that I didn't know whether to lie or tell the truth. He took the pause as an admission that his suspicion was correct. As we were both drunk at the time, and it was in danger of turning into a lets-have-sex-to-make-you-happy situation, I brushed it off and sent him home. We haven't talked about it since, and we're not close.
Perhaps that's why I'm using the internet as a sounding board. It's great; I can babble on for as long as I like and I don't even have to make an appointment!
February 02, 2012
Today was a good day.
The area of skin near my hip bone is looking a bit of a mess with all the scratches. Like someone scribbled in a piece of scrap paper to get the pen to work.
I added to it this morning, just a little.
There's definitely a feeling of boredom in there somewhere.
It nagged at me all day, snagging on my top when I moved. A little irritation, keeping me pondering.
Today was a good day. No upset, no anger, no stress. A little laughter, but no enough.
I need something more. Something I can throw my soul into, something creative, something physical.
I'll let you know what I come up with.
I added to it this morning, just a little.
There's definitely a feeling of boredom in there somewhere.
It nagged at me all day, snagging on my top when I moved. A little irritation, keeping me pondering.
Today was a good day. No upset, no anger, no stress. A little laughter, but no enough.
I need something more. Something I can throw my soul into, something creative, something physical.
I'll let you know what I come up with.
February 01, 2012
Where I Am Now (may contain triggers)
One night, three weeks ago, I opened a small bottle of cheap whiskey in my flat and drank enough of it to make hurting myself seem like a good idea. I'm not blaming the alcohol. I've been drunk before without consequences. I think a part of me was aware that I would not do it sober.
I've thought about it every once in a while over the years. Six years. I managed six years.
I remember the pain of trying to stop, the emotional mess I got myself into over it. So each time it pops up, I stop myself. It's not worth it. Have a drink instead. Distract myself.
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