Straight up, this is going to be dark so don’t read if you a.) Don’t like darkness b.) Don’t like blood or c.) You just don’t want to read this.
I’ve struggled with self inflicting behaviours for many years, first in 2014 then skip 2 years, then in 2017, skip 2 years and again the year after, and now yesterday.
I don’t want to talk about the past times because I just don’t want to right now, that’s a post itself.
Yesterday, my mum called me. We just caught up, spoke about what we’ve all been up to (my parents and I). Come the end of the call she brought up Emma’s birthday which is on Saturday coming.
I hate that I went to the Police, I really do because I don’t want to harm/hurt anyone yet I know it was the best thing to do.
My mum isn’t a bad person at all, she just doesn’t think sometimes. Not nice let me tell you that.
So at the end of the call she brought up that it was Emma’s birthday (assuming that I forgot). Sadly not, I knew it is her birthday upcoming and I felt guilty. So so guilty, she won’t have a nice birthday with all this hanging on her shoulders.
In our family, presents have unfortunately been expected and we’ve always had them. I’ve always been grateful but I would have appreciated having a better fucking childhood you know.
I felt guilty, like my parents would punish Emma for what she did by not getting her a present, I know how that sounds but It hurts. My actions have caused a whirlwind. A tsunami, not down to my fault mind you but still hurts. I hate knowing I have done something wrong, shame other’s aren’t the same.
I felt an urge to cut myself when we were on the phone so I held off, knowing in the back of my mind that this wouldn’t go away. I felt it so strongly. I just felt guilt.
I felt so fucking guilty, I’ve fucked up. I deserve to cut myself.
I felt so much at that time, I got a pair of some beefy scissors and did the deed. I didn’t feel enough pain so I used a beer bottle lid a few times. I stopped.
I knew that I needed to get out, I went for a walk around the nearby park and sat by the lake looking inwards. Will this consume me? The water? The recent events? I still don’t know but I felt one of them would do.
I then left the park walking past my house. I didn’t feel ready to go home, I walked onwards and placed myself on a narrow downwards pointing seat in a bus shelter.
I don’t feel shame for cutting myself nor upset that I broke my want to never again because this has all been so fucking hard, something has to give.
Well a lot has gave but it is what it is.
And I know it’s a bad thing to do, its unhealthy blaady bla bla. I can’t say I won’t do it again but I can say that I don’t want to and to me, that’s enough.