Dear friends and family, about three years ago I experienced a period of self-injury. I was living in Kotzebue (the first time) and my life consisted of work, sleep, TV and drinking. I didnt have a whole lot going on and I was pretty disappointed about where my life was at at that moment. Then there was a girl I really liked, and I thought she liked me, and then something happened (I dont quite remember what) and she wasnt good part of my life anymore. A short time later I had fight with my best friend, who was also my coworker and roommate at the time. Before that point I had had small moments of desiring to hurt myself (cutting, punching things) but I had never before acted on it, at least not to the degree that I did at this time. Using a box cutter from work, I started slicing into my arms. Nothing very deep. The cuts were bloody, but it wasnt dripping or anything. Nothing that required me to bandage or wash them. I started with a few cuts a day in my room. Then I started doing it at work in the bathroom. I started with one arm, then moved to the next one because I was running out of room. When that arm got full I tried my thighs, but it just didnt feel the same. And feeling was what it was all about. Im not sure exactly why I was doing it. Maybe I felt that the pain I was feeling inside wasnt real enough, and I wanted to feel physical pain. Maybe I just wanted to see scars as evidence that I really was hurting. Whatever the subconscious reasons, I knew that it felt good when I did it. I felt in control of this pain. Control felt good, because I didnt think that I couldnt control what was happening in my life. I didnt really try to hide it. I didnt wear long sleeves. Working in the dishroom was hot, so I needed to wear short sleeves. One coworker (who was particularly dense) saw the cuts and asked what they were. I told her they were scratches from handling the freight and cutting boxes. It seemed a sufficient enough answer for her. This was partly true because the edges of boxes would leave scratches on my arms, but they would go away with an hour. I think maybe those scratches were what gave me the idea to give me more permanent markings. I finally told another coworker. Or she inquired about them, I cant remember. As soon as I showed them to her she slapped my arm and it hurt like hell. That moment helped to bring me out of whatever it was I was dealing with. She told me something along the lines of that she was going to keep slapping my arms until I stopped. That was a pain I didnt want. If I was cutting myself to feel in control, then I now had the control to stop. If she is reading this, thank you. I havent cut myself since then (intentionally at least, I have a tendency to injure myself with sharp things*). However, every once in awhile I get the urge too. Sometimes its not even when I feel depressed. Theres just something about the memory of cutting into my arms that is pleasant in some part of my brain. The reading for my abnormal psychology course this week is on suicide, and it had a much too small section on non-suicidal self-injury. You would think that it would help to fight the urges, but it only made me want to do it more. Even despite all the psychology classes and readings that I have done in the last year and half, I seem to be not any better at dealing with my own issues. I have told a few people about my self-injury, but I felt that now it would be best to tell everyone about it. If everyone knows, maybe it will be easier to resist the urges, and fight against whatever part of me that wants to take a razor blade to my own skin. So there it is. Now everyone knows. Or at least everyone who reads this. If you are reading this and are dealing with your own urges to injure yourself, lets talk. To everyone else, thanks for listening. *The three inch scar I have on my left arm that some of you may remember was not intentional. Just a stupid accident. It happened some time after the intentional self-harm. **And please note that I am not suicidal. A large factor that contributes to suicidal thoughts is hopelessness. I have more hope than an Obama campaign speech.
Posted on: Sun, 19 Oct 2014 03:04:02 +0000