This is something I’m incredibly excited to write, yet terrified to begin. I knew from the moment I felt the slightest bit uneasy, that last night would become a blog post.
**Before I begin, there may be triggers in this piece. I talk about self harm and abuse. And I would like to clarify, I myself am not a danger to me or anyone else. I am not suicidal nor looking for an escape. If any of you are, however, suicidal or self harming I encourage you to reach out for not only support, but professional help. I am not a professional, but will stand by you if you need a supportive voice in your life. I am currently seeing a therapist and fully plan on talking with him about everything and more that is in this post. Thank you.**
My day started out fine. I went and met up with a guy I met online (yeah, I know I said I was done) and we had some great coffee and conversation. I went and saw my best friend for a moment, and then went on my way to another date I did not want to be on. The social awkwardness from that alone was enough to send me hiding back at my apartment, but we just had to go and watch a damn movie.
Fancy theater, lucky number 4, seats so big I don’t have to worry about accidentally touching my date, and a movie from a book I’ve read. Nothing could go wrong, right?
I had forgotten just how much mental illness, drinking problems, and abuse were apart of that story. We saw, The Girl On The Train. About halfway through the movie I was extremely uncomfortable. Not just because of the sex scenes, but because of the abuse being portrayed throughout the movie. Self destruction, mental mind games, physical abuse, and sexual abuse. All of which I have previously struggled with. I was done. I had to excuse myself at one moment to try and keep myself from crying in the damn bathroom.
Suddenly, I was no longer watching a movie, but my own life. When the man yelled at his ex wife, it was my ex boyfriend yelling at me. When she found out that he’d been lying to her, I was watching myself realize my mother had been lying to me. I couldn’t stand to watch this movie anymore but, again to save someone else from being uncomfortable, I sat through it.
Let me make one thing VERY clear. Be strong enough to leave the movie early. The person you’re with does NOT need an explanation. You’re uncomfortable? Be brave enough to change the situation. Don’t worry about the other person’s comfort. If they’re important to your life, they’ll understand.
After the movie, my date bought me Starbucks. I knew I was going to have to chain smoke my way home to keep from panicking, so I needed my coffee. We sat there awkwardly for a moment, I explained that the movie brought up bad memories, and he walked me to my car. Shyly, he asked for a kiss. Unfortunately, I have no plans of seeing him again and I was not in the mood to be touched. Thankfully, I took my own comfort into account and told him that he may not kiss me. Felt so proud of myself, guys.
I got into my car and called my parents. They were about as helpful as ever. “Go home and distract yourself.” Normally, great advice. However, I needed to know how I’d make it home. I was panicked not only from the movie, but because my ex has been in contact with me again. This always raises my anxiety levels to unhealthy amounts. I feel as though there’s no getting away from him.
As I drove home, I chain smoked. And then, I was too close to home to light up another cigarette. I began to cry. My makeup burning my eyes. I began to not have control over my right hand, which had began rubbing my left arm. Soon, before I could stop myself, I was scratching into my skin. It burned and felt so good. The sting of my sharp nails, I felt in control. Even though I wasn’t.
I parked in the apartment parking lot, and sat there for an hour. I cried, I listened to music, I continued to scratch my arm. I reached out to friends desperately, who all have their own lives and could not be reached. This photo is of me, mid anxiety attack. Covering my mouth because I’m insecure about that part of myself while crying. I ugly cry. My makeup is on my arm, all over my face, with mascara burning my eyes. I could barely see in this photo, and this photo makes me want to cry.
After listening to a helpful Christian song, I was brave enough to walk to my apartment. I lit a cigarette and walked home. I was afraid to get out of my car last night, afraid of the alcohol I still haven’t poured out as promised to you. I was afraid of the knife I keep hidden from myself.
I laid in bed and cried. I had flashbacks of all the times I had been emotionally and mentally abused. The times I had not fought for myself. The times I let people walk all over me. And, to be honest, I begged someone to kick me while I was down last night. Just one more punch and I’d be given a reason to open that Jack or find that knife.
This morning, I got my wish. I let someone walk all over me. I let him kick me while I was down. And as he was kicking, I was the one apologizing. I was the one comforting him. I was still weak from the night before, with nothing left to give. I let him tear me down again, then I let him build me back up. The same old routine from the same old toxic relationship. It was comfortable, familiar, and gave me a reason to harm myself again. Which, I have not yet done today. I’ve been successful in the attempt to keep myself from causing me pain. Yet, I keep the conversation in my head just in case.
I have plans tonight with a good friend, tacos and a movie. A good movie, one that will help. I can’t be alone again tonight, thankfully he is there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without his support today. I’m not sure what my next step is, I don’t know if I’ll keep in contact with that toxic relationship. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do a damn thing to help myself tomorrow. But, I’ll try my best. And hopefully, I will be able to begin my count of days since I last harmed myself.
Again, if you or anyone you know is struggling with self harm, suicidal thoughts, abuse, or any form of addiction please, PLEASE seek help. Whether it be a parent, trusting friend, doctor, or whomever please seek help. Most importantly, do not be afraid of professional help. It is there, you can find it, and it only shows how damn brave you are for fighting this battle. I am not a professional and this experience was my own and not meant to reflect others’ experiences.
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