I thought I was done…

  April 26th, 2010 by Erica

It had been 5 months since the last time I cut myself. I thought I was doing good. My husband decided to invite his family over for a cook out yesterday which usually means I end up having to clean house and cook while he goes upstairs to play Xbox. I was mostly right. I went upstairs and told him that I was not lifting a finger until he got off his butt to help me. That’s when it began. His first sentence was “just got lay down and be lazy like you always do.” I’m so in shock because I had already been up since 6am cleaning and it was now 12noon. Then he kept on. He wanted to be right over my shoulder making sure I cleaned everything to his standards and the verbal abuse continued. I am fat, lazy and worthless etc… The bad thing is the old me started to listen. I went and bought me some Mikes Hard Punch Mango flavored (I’m not a drinker or a smoker) and I sat outside with my drink some smokes and a knife. The sharp little sting of the cut was enough to relax me, but one cut would not do. I had to cut 4 more times. My arm is now bloody and I’ve got to hide it or he’ll get even more mad. I went back inside to clean my arm up and as I am washing the blood from my arm and relishing the sting from the water, he wraps his arms around me and tells me he’s sorry. I was so mad at him for the roller coaster of emotions he put me through. I shrugged him off me and told him to stay away from me. He all but gladly went to his recliner upstairs in the game room. I was still stuck with all the work and cooking. I think he thinks its a game. I think he likes to try and control me with his abusive words. There’s more to this story than what I’ve written and more to the abuse but it shows how little it takes to send me back peddling. If he could only understand that all I want to do is love him. I don’t want to be tired all the time. I want to lose the weight I’ve gained since my knee injury. I just don’t see the point anymore if I am never going to be good enough or if he sends me back to that dark place. It’s a dangerous obsession to think about your death everyday and can actually visualize it.

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