History 2

Hello.

  I had that same silly panicked feeling earlier tonight but it went away as I was trying to hurry and finish a project for one of my classes that’s due tomorrow.  After finally finishing it, my panicky feeling was gone but my head felt weird.  I got a small fever.  I feel absolutely fine physically so I have no idea what caused it.  Weird!

   In this blog entry I’ll write more about my history with self-harm.  My impulses were present again today and I think it’s just my coping mechanism alarm going off because of how much stuff the universe threw at me today to remind me I need to snap out of vacation mode.  I ignored the impulse as usual.  The past couple of days I’ve noticed that my self-loathing has been out of control too.  I’ve been loving myself for a while but today was the first time I started saying angry things about myself out loud when I did something wrong.  I have no idea why I’m being so self-critical right now but I know that my body’s physical state is currently repulsive to me.  I want to switch bodies so bad.  I can’t stand being in my skin right now at all.  Argh!

  Ok sorry, back on topic.  Umm let’s see… Oh I know where I’ll start.  I’d like to bring up the issue with self-harm being confused with suicidal thoughts and all of that.  Before I continue, I’m giving you another warning that what I’m about to write is graphic.  If you don’t want to read it, then skip ahead to the next paragraph.  LAST CHANCE!!  Ok.  Ever since I started self-harming when I was 13, to this day, I’ve only had suicidal thoughts twice.  The first time was when I was still 13 and lost my virginity to a boy who was three years older than me.  He wanted to break up with me and I was heartbroken because I thought he loved me.  I wanted to die so bad because I was absolutely devastated from being rejected.  In the heat of the moment, I got an old kitchen knife I had used for self-harming in the past and started a cut right above a vein on my wrist.  I vividly remember this moment and remember my thoughts when I was cutting—I didn’t once think that I wanted to cut deep enough to hit my vein and bleed to death.  I didn’t once think that I was going to end my life right then and there.  I hadn’t even gotten to the thought of what I wanted to do to off myself.  All I knew was that I wanted to die and needed to cut BAD because I was devastated that a boy didn’t love me anymore.  I was sitting on my bed on top of my white flowery comforter blanket, facing the dresser in front of my window in my room when the knife cut open my vein.  I remember everything turning dark as I went into a complete panic from the sight of my blood pumping out of a small cut on my vein.  I thought I was going to die and it was not what I was expecting at all.  I ran across my room and grabbed a bunch of toilet paper to hold onto my wrist and stop the bleeding.  I can’t remember how long it took to stop the bleeding but by the time it had stopped, both of my arms were covered in blood up to my elbows.  I had blood on my face somehow too.  For some reason I couldn’t leave my room to go clean up because I was afraid of getting caught so I stayed in my room the rest of the night with bloody arms, waiting to get up early so I could get rid of the mess.  The worst part of that memory that has stuck with me to this day aside from the shock of hitting a vein was the smell of my blood.  I had never witnessed that much blood come out of me and had no idea that blood even had a smell.  The next day in school I was in my English class and could smell a faint smell of popcorn being made down the hall.  The faint popcorn smell reminded me of the smell of my blood and I got scared because I thought I was bleeding again.  Luckily I wasn’t but my goodness how that smell made me sick to my stomach.  After that experience I avoided cutting anywhere near the veins on my arms.  I did not want to die.  I did not want to bleed to death.  I did not want to hit a vein ever again.  And I certainly didn’t have a suicidal thought for many years after that even though I continued to self-harm.

  My second experience with having suicidal thoughts was about three years ago when I was in the middle of a long-term relationship with an addict.  I don’t even remember what was going on that day but I remember driving downtown to go visit my boyfriend and I was angry at him for some reason.  This was probably the lowest point in my relationship with him where I felt absolutely hopeless and stuck.  I felt like I couldn’t get any lower and that I wasn’t living my own life anymore—not just with him, but with going to college too.  I felt like the choices I was making were not for me at all and I was truly unhappy.  So for a few minutes while driving down the freeway, I started thinking about suicide.  I thought about this ‘easy’ solution to my problems and what it would be like to not be in existence anymore.  I didn’t think that people’s lives would be easier with me gone or anything.  I just felt I was at such a low point and I wanted to disappear.  Again, I didn’t even think about how I wanted to end my life.  I just thought about the sensation of non-existence.  By the time I pulled up at my boyfriend’s house, the suicidal thoughts were gone and I haven’t had them since.

   I have cut several times before and after both suicidal thought periods and not once did the thought of suicide cross my mind.  I wanted to cut for multiple reasons which I will go into eventually.  Most of the times I cut were because I was angry at myself or angry at someone else and needed to release those extreme internal emotions.  I needed to see them ooze out of my arms.  I needed to feel them physically leaving my body.  I needed to have control over SOMETHING.  But not once did I sit there and go oh gee, I want to die, I’m going to cut so I die.  No.  I understand how one would associate a cutter with being suicidal and I know that some people who are suicidal do cut as well.  But not all cutters are suicidal.  And not all suicidal people cut.  Does that make sense?  I’m going to go into this suicide topic again soon but I’m out of energy to vent about it. 

  Anyway, that’s all I’m going to write about for now.  I will post more history stuff soon.  Thanks again for reading. 

Picture:

Found on the internet.  Hehehehe.  I wonder what that dog sounds like when it tries to breathe.