**This post contains images and story that may be a trigger to those who self harm. If you feel the urge of self harm after talking or reading about it, PLEASE do not continue to read this post. I am not a danger to myself or others, as I had my therapy appointment yesterday and came clean about my issues. Prayers are appreciated, advice and support is welcome. Please seek help if you are struggling.**
Yesterday, I grabbed a knife. I cut myself again. I realized yesterday, I’m still depressed. Even though my medication is helping, I’m still struggling through the darkness. It’s time to do something about it. I have the strength to overcome this, I do not need to wait and hope it passes.
Self harm is beginning to feel normal again. It no longer scares me that I’m hurting myself. It’s becoming a habit, a routine. I’m not quite sure what I’ll do to replace it just yet, but that’s where I start today.
It’s not “bad.” It’s mostly just some light scratches. The purpose in the moment was to bleed, afterwards I wanted to feel the pain. I got my wish. I was bleeding more than I ever had while cutting, the pain lasted until I fell asleep last night. The cuts aren’t deep, they’re not in a “dangerous” place. But they’re real. And shouldn’t be treated as less than.
I self harm in two places, normally. On my left arm, and on my left thigh. Ironically, my left arm is covered in tattoos to remind me not to self harm.
My second, I got after struggling with the urge to scratch myself again. I was feeling anxious about having to travel back to Arizona alone while living in Tennessee. I’d hoped this would have brought me courage. It didn’t. But it’s a reminder of the strength I do have. “It’s come our time” lyrics from a Johnny Cash song about wildflowers. It’s a love song, but to me it’s so much more. It’s come my time to love myself, to pick wildflowers for myself. This tattoo covers where there once was a scar so bad that my birthmark was earased for a time.
And this, this is my lotus flower. I got this one right before diving into the worst Depressive Episode of my life to date. One I’m still struggling to break free of. It means new beginnings, lotus flowers grow through the mud and end up being the most beautiful flower ever. That’s what I’m doing, growing through the mud to become beautiful.
As I wrote this today, I got a phone call back from my Dad. He didn’t have much time to talk. Barely any, actually. I had to tell him in the most passive, casual way possible that I had been hurting myself again. It got no response. He did, however, say that he is continuing to pray for me. Which is about all he can do. It’s about all he’s ever been able to do.
Today, I have to be honest with my Grandmother about it. Today, I have to figure out how I’m going to survive the rest of the month with no money. I had medical expenses I still need to take care of, thankfully all my bills are now paid. I smoke cigarettes and that’s another expense I need to make sure is taken care of, or everything will get worse. I can’t quit smoking while struggling with all of this. It’ll just add fuel to the fire.
I’m being honest with you all. I don’t want my readers to look up to me and think I have it all together. This blog is not only meant to inspire, but to be incredibly real and honest. To let others know, they’re not alone in their suffering.