LillyBoPeep -> RE: Self-harm and masochism (3/8/2011 1:38:03 PM)
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quote:
ORIGINAL: porcelaine It's like a drug. You do it once and it stems the tide but you'll need another hit or ten to keep King Kong at bay. Pretty soon you find the occasional episode is occurring with regularity. And like most addictions it can lead into other things. So you layer on one thing after the other until you've constructed a sky high pile of nothingness. It teeters and one day you really see the mess that you've become. Or you bottom out. Hit a vein, cut too deep, or have another wake up call that forces you to stop and see where the agony has led. I remember a line from Silence of the Lambs that sums it up perfectly. Lecter utters to Clarice, "Have the lambs stopped screaming?" That's the real issue underneath it all. You can't shut them up and you can't let them out. The scars represent the words never spoken and the tears you cannot shed. The blade is the conductor and the crescendo the voice unrestrained. Your speech is littered on the canvas. EXACTLY. holy spoots -- were you sitting in my room that day? for me, i had two "this is it, no more" moments. i was having problems due to bullying at school, feeling like i didn't belong anywhere, like nobody in my family cared about me, plus baggage from childhood sexual abuse. it was a really creepy time. i had a little kit with stuff (like the chick in The Secretary =p) that i would take with me everywhere; i did it in the bathroom during or between classes, in the morning, after dinner, before i went to sleep, whenever. one day, i found myself coming out of a zone-out, repeatedly cutting into the same cut, making it deeper and deeper. i didn't even remember why i started. that was kinda when i felt like it had gotten out of my control. and i worked up all kinds of courage and told my mom. (edited to add -- there's a span of YEARS between here. i was in high school during my biggest bout of it. the second brush with it was 5-6 years later) that took me along for a while, but then once my late M and i had a horrible fight. it was the one fight we ever had, but eeeeeeech... i was in the middle of some kind of emotional downswing (i'd had a really bad car accident where my mom was injured and pets had died/gotten lost, etc etc) and for some reason, cutting seemed like a good idea. but when he saw the cuts when we were about to have sex (i'd literally totally forgotten them), the look on his face was enough to make me realize that i had done something that hurt HIM. i finally started to see myself the way he saw me, and i decided i'd never do it again, ever. for a while, i wouldn't talk about self-harm because i was pretty sure people would think i was nuts. but i talk about it now because i'm actually really proud of myself, and i hope that other people out there who are ever battling with it can see that you CAN get away from it. it is like an addiction, it's always kinda hovering in the background, but you become a strong enough person to say "i really don't need that. i don't even like it." and it simply becomes a blip in your past; something you can remember and learn from, but move on from.
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