Tag Archives: self injury

The dark side of love

10 Jun

I have a friend in New York. It’s a guy, I got to know him by chance, hanging around union square. He called himself a hipster. I was new in the city. Actually, I haven’t even been in the US for such a long time. So I was just walking around and enjoying this vibe, this very special energy in NY (oh my gosh, I really do miss that!).

My feet were tired, I sat down at Union Square, right across from Whole Foods (gees… I do miss that, too!)
He started talking to me, in the end we talked the whole night and it was the beginning of a good friendship.

Once we talked about love. He said that being in love with someone is like being addicted to that person.
I almost got angry and worked up on that! Being addicted was something so terrible for me. (He knew about my story) Being addicted means being addicted to hunger, being addicted to eating and purging, being addicted to cutting. And that was terrible! Yes, there was a time when I really needed those things. But at the same time I hated all that! Maybe not at the very beginning, but once you notice the severe and negativ impact (I guess I don’t have to talk about that right know) it has on you, you will begin to hate it. So I told him that what he said is not true and to stop saying that.

But I started to think about it. Maybe I also loved… let’s say… being hungry? Even cutting? It is hard to admit, but it might be true, after all. But I didn’t love it the way I love my boyfriend. I loved and hated it at the same time! The more I loved, the more I needed it, the more I hated it! It was crazy. It was a love-hate relationship. (Actually, some really bad relationships also might work that way, but that’s not the point I want to make.)

But what to make of that insight? Today I think… one little steep out of that vicious circle is to reduce your love and your hate for those harmful things at the same time. Little by little. Cause the pendulum swings back and forth. If you reduce the hate, you won’t hate yourself that much each time you relapse. You reduce the love, and you won’t feel the urge that often anymore…

It’s a process.

And it takes time.

And love. But not for the harmful things you used to do.

 

Love yourself instead.

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Wounds heal. Scars stay.

5 Jun

Scars. On the inside and on the outside.

Wounds heal, scars stay. Forever.

There are scars all over my arms. Scars all over my lower legs.

Especially those on my arms can easily be seen by other people in summer. I remember my teen years. I was anxious to hide any hint of self injury. And I was so embarrassed when I failed. I thought of the most creative lie for any injury. Not just the neighbors’ cat. That’s lame. My father was building a wooden summerhouse (true part) and I feel and hurt myself on a wooden board with nails on it (lie…). There were more of those lies. But I didn’t keep it up for a very long time. There is a difference between wounds from self-injury and accidents. And once there are too many of those wounds… there’s just no other explanation.

I was always suprised that people would still ask what I’ve done. I am sure they wouldn’t have asked if they had know for sure that the scars were from self-injury. Well, after a short time, I stopped lying. Things were just too obvious, I couldn’t stand thinking of new accidents anymore and actually, I just didn’t care what people would think.

So I told them. “Yeah, this IS what it looks like! This IS self – injury. I DID cut myself. And people were like “Oh.” More often than not, that was the only thing they said on this topic. That was fine with me. Actually, I wasn’t embarrassed anymore. I would have talked to them about it. It became easy for me, I was frank with anyone who wanted to talk about it, it wasn’t awkward anymore. But I think most people just can’t take it. They don’t want to hear anything about these things. It doesn’t have a place in their ideal world. That’s okay. It’s not my concern.

A few weeks ago, something strange happened. I did cut myself again, on the backside of my lower leg. That’s bad enough, but okay… you all know, there are relapses. Always. And I am pretty sure there are still gonna be relapses for quite a long time. But they become fewer! That’s the good part!
Anyway, I did cut myself again. And it is summer. There were some really hot days. I do love the summer and I really don’t want to wear long clothes when it’s that warm… I love to feel the sun on my skin. And I didn’t want to bow. So I put on a summer dress and covered the injury with a little make up. I figured that most people wouldn’t look at that spot anyway, everyone is so busy with themselves… For the bigger part, I was right. But there was this one moment. Two friends and I were going to a bus stop. The street was steeply rising and I was going in front of them.

A mistake. But I simply forgot.

One of my friends was like “Devi, I just see this as I am walking behind you… what’s that on your leg?”
The other friend asked “Was it a cat?” (she was SERIOUS, no ironie or sarcarsm… I guess she doesn’t know it is a lame excuse for cutting yourself)

And at that moment, I noticed… it is much more difficult to talk about it when you see the actual injury. When you can see crusted blood instead of scars. When it is fresh. I have never been in that situation before! It was awkward.  My voice was very cool and dismissive. I simply said “Yes, it is what it looks like.  No cat. It was me and my scissors.”

My friends reaction:

“Oh.” “WHAT?” (very shocked voice)

Up to this day, we never talked about it again.

Time

22 May

How much time did I already squander for my eating disorder? How many time did you spend engaging in those behaviors, planing meals, purging, dieting?

Have you ever thought about that? Yesterday, a friend and I had a discussion about wasting time… My friend said, that he was mad at himself for all the time he wasted playing computer games. So unproductive. I told him, at least you enjoyed yourself. At least you had fun. So you didn’t really waste your time!

I told him, how I had wasted my time. How much time a eating disorder takes up. More than any computer game. And you never reach the last level and win. There is no happy end. You never kill the enemy. You can only kill yourself. That’s the end, that’s what comes at the end of the way, if you want to it to the end.

I didn’t enjoy myself when purging, when starving myself. I made myself suffer. And if I imagine I had read a good book each time instead of engaging in my eating disorder… I would have read through entire libraries.

Or if I had done something for college or school … I would have had the best grades ever.

Fact is, I did not do all these things.

But you can’t change the past. You can only ruin the present my worrying about it…

Time is what we always want most, but we use it very badly. What is time? What is a day?
Ask the dictionary…

Day, n.  A period of twenty-four hours, mostly misspent
Ambrose Bierce

Wiliam Ernest Henley – Invictus

22 May

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
looms but the horror of the shade,
and yet the menace of the years
finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
how charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Nevermore

3 Apr

Quoth the ED… Nevermore.

 

It’s a deception, a beautiful lie. Beautiful, but still, it’s a lie. A weighty one. Nevermore: Relapse. Nevermore: Self injury. Nevermore: Purging.

The recipe for failure. It shouldn’t be that difficult. It is this difficult. It is war. Resign, give up all hope, and you will go down. Running doesn’t help, you’re never fast enough. Never. Nevermore.

Could you win this war? If you dare to fight. If you fight on the right side. And if you stand up again and  again. Hitting rock button without breaking. It’s possible. You have to find out for yourself. For your Self.

Nevermore. Don’t trust the nevermore.

It’s possible.

December

17 Dec

is it possible that december is the perfect time for relapsing?

Everyone is having a good time. People are happy. People are eating a lot and don’t even think about it.

Except for us. We go crazy. Being depressed and everything. Plus it’s dark and cold. It really doesn’t help.

I used to love the time around Christmas so much. But I just noticed, that during the last few years, I’ve always had one of my worst times of the year in december. Beautiful and terrible time.

Passion

1 Dec

Big things make you lonely.  

And I’m not even talking about the body. I’ve never been really big, though I’ve been afraid to become big all my life. No. There are other aspects in life.

Big pain that no one else understands.

Sadness.

Craziness.

Anything which is out of order. Any passion. Any untamed passion.

So you’re standing there and feeling lonely. Feeling like you’re the only one. And it may be true or not. It doesn’t matter. Some people say we don’t truly start to live until we have our backs against the wall. Passions can be like elevators between heaven and hell. How often have I asked for a way out… I think there is no way. No path I can go. I have to find my own way. A new paths. And I might leave a new trail.

Maybe.