Argh, time is quickly passing me by. Where did this afternoon disappear to? Did it just vanish into the black hole that seems to be swallowing my life at the moment? Or did I just stop caring where the day went, wallowing in my laziness, chatting to a friend.
I want to be able to write, to be able to formulate coherent sentences and put forward intelligent points of view but lately it seems like my brain is slowed up so much that even finding the most appropriate word is a marathon task.
Last night and today I spoke with a friend regarding his openess about his self harm. He told me the amount of people who know that he self harms and I called him brave for being so open about it. Initially he couldn’t see it.
He is not ashamed of what he does and quite rightly just sees it as something as he does to cope which helps him.
Then I think back to myself. To all the years of hiding and lying. The tears and the emotional torment that I have endured in keeping my secret, my secret shame….and for what? I long to be able to just accept it, deal with it and move on but at the same time I am afraid that I will become complacent and use it as an excuse not to quit.
I managed seven months clear. I guess I was just doing well those seven months and that cutting had just stopped working for me and because all relief felt from actually committing the act had gone it was easy to stop. But now, it helps again. Every time the scars get worse, the hiding gets harder. I back off because I am too scared to let people know how much I hurt. I know that lots of people hurt inside far more than I ever do, that everyone has their own problems and challenges, that just makes me feel more of a fake, more pathetic.
Aside from professionals and support group only four people in my life know I self harm. Two of them know I do it but I would never talk to them about it. One of them hates me so much she never wants to speak to me again (namely for other reasons a step-up from self harm). That leaves one person. One fucking person.
In a way it shows that I am a successful liar, a private person and good at keeping a secret.
But at what price?
Who do you turn to when your world falls apart? What do you do when you are so desperately lonely that the world seems such a huge, desolate place? Who will hug you and tell you it’s going to be alright?
No-one. It is not going to be OK.
Don’t get me wrong there are people in my life who care and want to see me get out of this place I’m in. This rut that I have become embedded in over the last two months.
Thing is, I can’t let them. I have spent my whole life shutting people out. I have to. Every word I speak is potential ammunition, and usually ends up being so. Things come around frequently to haunt me. One stupid sentence lost me all my friends for an entire year. A year of wandering around like a ghost with the only people noticing you being the folk that wanted to beat you up.
I guess that’s when I learned to become self-sufficient.
Actually, no, I think it was much earlier, maybe about age 8 or 9, when I first told my parents I was being bullied and they refused to help me, told me just to ignore it. When everyone looked but no-one saw and no-one helped. Things could have been different.
There were so many opportunities for people to break my fall. One kind word would have been a start. However, all I was met with was blackmail and personal attacks. One in particular after I broke down in tears at school after years of several times daily panic attacks, cutting everyday and being blackmailed by a certain teacher to stop on two occasions. I was pulled up by guidance, the response was clear: ” You are just a stupid little girl who is just doing this all for attention and causing everyone problems.”
And people wonder when everytime I am asked how I am the answer is always ”fine” or “OK” regardless of real emotions. They wonder why I don’t trust anyone. Why I push people away. Why I truly believe that there is no point asking for help as I AM attention seeking, and that I know the truth is that no-one could possibly ever help me.
I can’t let the people who want to help in. I can’t let them in. If I do there’s a 100% chance they will get hurt. I am like a hurricane. I cause emotional damage to anyone that comes within any distance of me. As I spiral out of control the more damage I do to everyone around me.
I can’t let them in. They could hurt me. They could lie. They could go behind my back. They could reject me. I’ve been rejected my whole life. It is easier to reject than be rejected. Every time. They could hurt me. I can’t let them in.
13 Years I have been on my own. 13 years the only person I could trust was me. The last few years I’ve had my best friend. Even then my trust issues get in the way and cause problems. Occasionally she does hurt me. But she is my friend and I love her. Every time, I forgive her. But only because it is her, because she is the most brilliant, strong, internally beautiful person I have ever met. Because she looks and she sees. Because she was the first person in my life to listen and to hear. For that I love her and trust her. It has taken a long time to be able to do that.
Not everyone has that time.
How can I express in words what I have only ever internalised, the things that eat me up inside? The insecurities that go around and around. Why would I chose to inflict that on anyone. I guess I’m doing it now. But you chose to read. You don’t know me. That’s safe.
I don’t want to be vulnerable. My walls are here for a reason. They need to be there. I do require these reinforced fortified walls, this big hill, canons, deep moat and man eating crocodiles. I cannot be vulnerable. I am weak inside as it is. It may just finish me.
I can rely on me. I am better off on my own.
