Posted by: ImpendingDawn | February 26, 2011

My brain is a scary place.

I can beat this. I WILL beat this. I will, I will, I will. (Quit lying to yourself. You will never be free.)

I want to get better. (No you don’t. You need this.)

I have to get better. This will destroy me. (Is it really a bad thing if this destroys you? You deserve to be destroyed. You deserve the constant pain, the constant reminders.)

That is the argument that has been going on in my brain for ages. Sometimes the sane side wins, and sometimes the addiction side wins. I try to tell myself that I’m improving, for in the past few months I’ve self-harmed a lot less than I used to. But then I have to acknowledge the fact that even though the sessions are growing further apart, the harm itself is growing worse. I used to make a couple shallow cuts nearly every day, but last month I made over 40 deep lines across my arms in a single manic episode. That’s not improvement. That’s frightening.

I found a sharp pair of tweezers in my bathroom the other day. The sane side of my brain was still mostly in control, so I knew they were only going to create a problem for me and I should get rid of them. Then the addiction spoke up and told me I should keep them just in case.

I kept them. I cut myself. I hate myself.

They’re gone now, but the scars are still there. And I love the scars. I don’t know what I’ll do when they start to fade.

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Responses

  1. You sound so much like me it’s scary. *hug*


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