Feh II

July 7, 2007 at 2:31 am 1 comment

I have headphones on and am currently playing music at an ungodly volume. It’s probably doing damage to my hearing. But it’s stopping me from getting the razorblade from the bag. Not to use it, but as a way of calming myself. Because with the thoughts going through my head at the moment I need something to take away the edge from the sensation that I will be absolutely destroyed if I let these feelings out. And cutting is the only way I know to stop the feelings. And once I take the razor-blade out I will use it, eventually. Because that’s the way I trick myself into these things. I don’t want to cut. I try my hardest not to. And cutting is not easy. It requires getting out the blade. Getting something to stop the blood from staining my clothes and sofa. Getting something to clean the blood up afterwards. Lots of little steps that end up with me just a little more scarred.

So if I get the razor blade out as a reminder that these feelings won’t destroy me, then I’ll end up getting all the other stuff, one by one. Because although I’m not going to cut, it’s best to have all the stuff together just in case I do and before I know it I’ll be losing blood.

So, ironically, me desperately trying to deal with these incredibly negative emotions looks like I’m just enjoying some good music.

Disturbing dream last night (I say night, I mean day). I don’t remember much of it, except the end, where I was running from these guys who wanted to beat me up. I half-woke up just before they got to me. The dream was still in my head, so I consciously changed it and fell asleep just enough so I could beat the shit out of them.

What’s making me feel like this at the moment is a mixture of the usual crap and also the less usual (because normally I avoid thinking too much about it) sexually fucked-up crap. I’m not going to go into the sexually fucked-up crap at the moment. Writing this supposed to make me feel less like destroying myself and frankly, raking through the burning embers of shame isn’t going to help.

Even the usual crap is just the fact that the whole sexually fucked-up stuff question is entirely academic since I never, ever fucking meet anyone and, even if I did, I have absolutely nothing to offer. Oh and Rebecca, because she was pretty much the intersection of these two things.

[Fun and possibly neurological note: When I feel like this my vision goes all staticky.]

There’s this place in between deep depression and feeling OK, which is the worst place to get stuck in, which is where I am now. When you’re depressed, you don’t have enough energy to think or do anything. When you’re OK, you have enough energy to get things done, to think stuff. And here in the middle, I have enough energy to think things, for moments of hope before the depressed voice tells me how much of a fucking idiot I am. I have enough energy to shower and do laundry, but also enough energy to slice my flesh open. When you’re depressed there’s not enough energy to get really angry at yourself. But here, there is.

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1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. patientanonymous  |  July 7, 2007 at 11:22 pm

    Hey, I glad that you found something to distract yourself form cutting. That is amazing! I’m really proud of you.

    I know that betwixt and between state. I’ve often said that the really deep, dark depressions often keep ups alive (or safe) as we so desperately can’t move or function so we don’t have the energy to harm ourselves.

    Hang in there, friend…
    PA

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Hi, I'm James. I'm a 26 year old guy from England with bipolar disorder (currently well controlled). I also have a circadian rhythm sleep disorder (not so well controlled). This blog has charted my journey from mental illness, through diagnosis and, recently, into recovery. It's not always easy, but then, what is?

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As of 12th September 2008 it has been forty five weeks since I quit smoking. So in another seven weeks it'll have been a whole year.

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