the pain we create from the pain we feel,this is the crux of it all...

I pick the exact font, the color, the size I make it bold and italic and begin, my ‘psycho’ kitty in my lap bites me lightly to remind me that hey she needs some warm affection;  a nuzzle, a little pat. So I’ve decided to write here finally, to those like me who understand and maybe also to those who don’t understand with the hopes that something will happen inside of you and you’ll just go ‘wow I have felt that way too, it’s happened to me, ok I don’t do what you do but I understand the pain.”

 So the word of the day is pain, the origins of it, feeling it, wallowing in it, denying it, numbing it, hurting it way. I self harm and I have self harmed since around eleven years of age. As I sat on the toilet seat and picked my arms, every pick elicited some feeling of SOMETHING SOMETHING, besides NOTHING. I was triggered this evening quite a bit after having read something on EP, it really hit home and like little bombs inside of me, I reacted. I was thrown back in time and I reacted. I was feeling so many things, overwhelmed, no where to release, volcanic in nature, my mind a tornado  and I reacted. I’ve no one to talk to, and after the pain peak there is no pain, and that’s nice. Pain/no pain, pain/no pain, pain/no pain, …….GET IT?......if you’re in the former category you do, if you’re in the latter I doubt it. Picking my arms isn’t my main form of self harm. What is~ it’s nothing that you will read about, it’s very invisible I don’t use anything besides my own body as a self harm tool and how creative is that? One of my counsellors many years ago said so to me, that I’ve survived abuses, and I am alive, that is the main thing; and my actions of self harm are coping mechanism. I get it, can you get it?

 I am an ocean of pain so wide and so vast, I can’t fill it can you fill the ocean of pain. I can talk forever and still so much unsaid, so many words have just died in my head. Why the rush in this life, so many ‘things’ too many bling blings. I suppose it’s ok when you’re wholer, when you don’t feel shattered inside.  I know how I look to you, pretty, petite and just look at those eyes. My counsellor said to me, very astutely I might add, the better I look, the worse I feel. A little eye shadow, a  spring in my step, the right wardrobe and maybe perfume, why I can practically pass for an almost perfect person. I am a chameleon (been a wallflower back then)  I may even  fool you to the last. So you can’t know how I’m hurting I’ll smile or look away fast. And I’ll have the tactical advantage, that way  you will not hurt me.  I’ve worn masks for so long; had to, had no sanctuary back in those days. The safe harbours were my books, books and my pain. This pain MY PAIN,I OWNED MY PAIN IT WAS MINE, NO ONE GAVE IT TO ME, I CONTROL MY PAIN, NOT ANYONE, NOT HIM, NOT HIM OR HIM, NOT HER  AND NOT YOU!

  Sometimes it’s like a black hole in my mind where I am, because time slows down, almost stopping at me, my own universe still in chaos mode, after all these years. And speeding up the farther you get from me; yes I’ve noticed the world moving very fast, too quickly for me to catch up. What happened to hugs from my grandma, what happed to so many things? ..I look in the mirror, the greys creeping out, small wrinkles find  home on my face. But the eyes of girl still stare back, I think I must be grateful to her, for she is here with me always, she’s survived. Tears stream down my face, the tears dissolve into nothingness, they come from a bottomless source and back to the source they go. Oh I hope all this is not in vain.

 My mother so generously said to me a few days ago, I look like a seventeen or twenty year old. I laughed and thanked her, no I don’t think it was the wine talking. Maybe there are still years left to catch those dreams, maybe just a few. Perhaps one day I’ll not feel like an outsider; a lost girl in  my skin, an alien in my own world, a pariah amongst my kind, afraid, so afraid,  perhaps one day, one glorious day….

 

Lunadelobos Lunadelobos
46-50
2 Responses Feb 27, 2010

thank you:) a kind word and non judgemental heart means a great deal

when i first put this here i felt really overwhelmed and extremely raw and vulnerable, even some degree of shame. Now i feel such relief, and calm, perhaps that all that 'dirt' (which we all have in us it may manifest in different ways, but we all have pain) is out now, it's not sitting in a dark closet taunting me. Part of the puzzle for self harmers is our inability to otherwise express difficult emotions and feelings, to articulate in words, as opposed to self-harming . <br />
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No secrets can live in light and I think i am relieved that I've had the courage to share this with the world. After all a secret for almost 30 years takes a heavy toll on the soul!