Me, myself and self injury (it may trigger unwelcomed feelings)
Well... I can say: loads? but I would be lying, there's still so much in the darkness about it to me that I'm afraid to face.
Last week I got together with a friend of mine, she has some issues and I heard from another friend that she tried to hurt herself... so I tried to set up a date, talk and get her issues out, see what I could do to help, in the end it turned out to be a moment of weakness and fear, so she's alright now, I doubt she thinks of doing it again since she feels better about her problems and she knows I'm with her.
So... selfinjury... first of all I would say it's a sickness and second of all I would say that for some people is an adiction, to me in particular. It goes back to the time of the first catholic monks, they used to hurt themselves in repriment of punishment for their sins and also to follow the steps of Christ; it's basicaly hurting ones body. It can be done in many ways and because of many reason but the most common are cutting, burning or piercing a part of your body.
Do not be confused with "emo" people, you know... those who dress in black and white, small skirts and are constantly speaking how sad they feel, they are following a "fashion" not suffering from selfinjury. The people who are sick with selfinjury do it for 2 different reason:
1. To directly call someone's attention
2. To directly punish themselves
So, it can be a silent cry for help or it can be away of atonishing for what we believe we did wrong in our lives. It's an escape like any other drug, alcohol and such, it doesn't really help.
To me, it all started when I was 13 years old... I felt hated at school and at my parent house, never loved, forgotten and what's worst; I thought the world would be better without me, because I was only good as an example of how people shouldn't live. No one ever notice what was happening but I became suicidal...
I really tried to kill myself...
nothing worked.... so I took the next door opened in front of me, I took a razor blade and cut the skin in the palm of my hand, right down my little finger, not so deep, but enough to draw blood, it hurted and burned but the moment the blood came out I begun a trip, to a "better" place, a moment in peace and quiet, a place where I wasn't hated or guilty of anything and after the moment was gone the numbness came, I was so numb... I was probably close to dead.
things didn't get any better after this, I started doing it more often, then moved the cuts to my wrist, them arm then forearm, a little deeper, a little larger... I was good at making them bleed enough for me to tripp for a while and then stop the bleeding so I could leave my hiding place and go to sleep with the numbness... I was addicted to it... so into it I was lost, even thought I knew it wasn't good, even thought I later felt guilty I wouldn't stop, I couldn't ask for help because I didn't want any help, I wanted my drug... I wanted to feel the sharp pain and the numbness to ease the pain inside my heart... because no matter how much I tried it wasn't going away.
looking back in what I used to do... I see how wrong I was; it never helped and it actually made things even worst. Specially when my parents found out.
I had had a serious fight with my mother and went to take my drug hiding in the laundry room, she entered and saw a fine line of blood coming down my arm, she thought I was trying to punish HER.
My father thought better for me to stop going to work and in punishment I would have to remain inside that house "for good"
I could take it no longer, I guess that was the last I could take... and I was about to finish my life for good... when a friend stepped out to give me a hand...
Why hadn't I reached for help before? well, like I said I kind of enjoyed it? so why would I ask for help? I was intoxicated so I was in no position to make a life changing decision (or so I thought) and I was not "silently crying for help" I was punishing myself for everything I "did wrong", I couldn't ask for help even if I wanted to because it wouldn't come out of me, I was ok with my punishments and in those moments of pain and desire for the worst I thought myself as alone.
But I wasn't... and it took me to be found by my parents (who later forgot the incident) to open up to this dear friend of mine. He helped me find a way to heal, first by helping me get into College (a life changing decision) and secondly to look for psychological help there (I was nearly dragged into it but it worked). I realized how much damage I had done to myself and decided to stop hurting myself so I could achive things, dreams, not for my parents but for me, so I was no longer wrong, but right... to myself... I was trying to be responsible for myself.
I was 18 at the time and was very brave... The first time I got into the "abstinence symtoms" I went in a walk into hell and back and I couldn't take it, next time was harder but I remained strong in my decision that time... and so it was a play of yes, no, yes, yes, no, yes... until I made got stable and now... it's been 3 years since the last time I did it.
If anyone reading this suffers from it, believe in my words... I have an addiction, ok? I have to live with it the rest of my life the same way I live with the fact that I was raped, but it doesn't have to be so terrible!! It doesn't have to hurt so much... it's hard alright but it wil pay back, you'll see.
How was abstinence? HORRIBLE! I still get it sometimes... when I get a panick attack or something awful happens at home... my hands itch and my vains hurt, I have an itchy and burning feeling in my throat and it's as if I wanted to rip open my chest AND throat, to scratch so I scratch my arms... I pace, I cannot stop, it's frustrating and you enter desperation and anxiety... so, it was Hell.
What did I do to overcome it? first? not to give in! I would write, sing as loud as I could, scream if posible, run, practice Kendo (martial art with bamboo swords) pierce my ears (back then I got 11 piercings) cut my hair, cut figures in magazines, was my hands, take a bath, do yoga, call my friends (my most difficult task "comunicate what I was feelings) and last but not least; I would draw. My passion is drawing so I would draw the reason why I was so sad or desperate, my fights or struggles with my parents and feelings for myself... and whatever happened to pass by my head. All this together got me back in track everytime I managed to fight it off.
It still works... so don't give up on "rehab" it'll be alright, in time, you'll see.
Now, I talk about it openly with those who I trust, like my little sister (she's 21), my twin sister, some friends and my fiancee. They know what I've been through and they supported me and continue to support me when I feel bad, it's hard to talk about it because it's shameful but they love me either way so I think I owe them my trust and honesty... don't you think?
Selfinjury it's nothing but an illness, sometimes uncureable, but there's medication (not literally of course... not for me) and you can live with it and be HAPPY.
This is what I can say about me, myself and Selfinjury. BTW everything I told (not from experience) is something I've read before in books and the inet, so if I'm wrong in some technical thing or something don't skin me alive, ok? xP just correct me.
Live long and prosper n\\ //