Sometimes I wonder how I got into the mess that I am currently in... Why did I ever decide that picking up a razor, knife etc. was the way to go? I think it's crazy that something so unaccepted by society and family and friends is my go to coping mechanism. Perhaps its because I feel like there is nothing else I can turn to? No one to turn to? I remember when I was younger my parents always said that I was a self punisher and I guess that is true. I mean anytime anything ever happened or went wrong the negativity that I would place on my self was incredible.
I guess what frustrates me the most is that every time I want to self harm I feel guilty like I am hurting those who care around me, but at the same time I don't see anyone trying to intervene and help me either. I guess I am getting to the point where I struggle to picture the future, I have no idea where I'll be or how I will end up. Sometimes I find myself actually thinking that no one would really care or be affected by losing me. Yes they may think it's tragic etc, but they would move on. I wish I didn't have these thoughts but I do.
I would love to go back to being the happy and fun-loving person I used to be, however that isn't who I am any more. I don't know who I am at all. What my interests are, what music I like, what food I like. I no longer even recognize the girl in the mirror. The pain in my eyes, the hatred I feel for my image and person. Some would say that I should get up and do something about that, seek help, return to counseling. The problem is during the day when the sessions would be occuring, I'm fine its at night when everyone is sleeping that the monster in me and the destructiveness is most active.
My great-aunt is currently on Hospice and one of the things she constantly says is how she doesn't have a quality of life. Well neither do I. I get up go to work come home and sleep. That's it, no friends no interactions with family. I have barricaded myself quite well. All I want is to be alone, yet the loneliness I already feel is crippling. I have no support system. Just faraway people, a mother who doesn't care and a fantastic grandmother with too much on her plate to have to worry about me.
Anyway these are just some random things bouncing around about the self harm, It was kind of ramble-ly so I am sorry. I'm not used to talking about it and writing for me is rusty.
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