I hurt myself over and over, my body is riddled with scars that remind me every day of the pain I feel. I don’t know whether to hate them or love them. They’re part of me, the part most people can’t accept. I’ve tried to get better before it got this bad, but I failed, I’m not strong enough to break free from this violent addiction. I’m supposed to be better now, but I’m not. Last week I could have sworn my depression was cured, I was happy, genuinely happy which I hadn’t felt in a long time, but one small comment is all it took to trigger emotions that had nothing to do with that comment. I thought life was getting better, how naive am I to actually think life can just suddenly get easier. I guess that shows how desperate I am to feel something besides this painful darkness.
Recovery won’t be that hard this time, I told myself. But I was wrong, it’s always hard. I made a mistake. I tried to choose recovery. I gave my coach my last blade, and now I regret it. I just want to bleed, to feel something other than this sickening pain, to feel the relief that I can’t seem to find anywhere else. I can’t stop, I want to stop, but I can’t. I want to have more scars but I also don’t. I need help. I can’t do this anymore. No one understands how painful it is to feel so ashamed that you’d rather die than face the pain a new day brings.
Does it ever get better? Will I ever stop wanting more scars? Will the urge to cut ever truly fade? Can I even live a normal life with these scars? Will people ever stop making fun of my scars? Does anyone understand what this is like?
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I used to cut a lot too. What helped me stop is figuring out exactly why I did it and then meeting that need with something else, exercise, in my case.
You’re not alone, no pun intended. I understand how you feel. The odd pursuit of happiness when you’re depressed. Jumping to call the littlest relief happiness. Feeling crushed when it’s gone. The strange serenity of the pre dawn sky makes you feel like you’re finally happy. Because you’re so alone. The world is sleeping and you’re the only one that understands life is more than getting to work in the morning. Life is about the fantastical beauty of that pink sky. But it fades. Day comes, life goes on, you forget just why you felt so good in that moment. And then you smoke something, or get off, or eat to find that feeling again, but it’s never there. I’ve felt like that and been fooled by it. I’ve felt better than that and been fooled into thinking I was recovered.
The truth is, yes, you will recover. You won’t be depressed anymore. You’ll have weeks, months, years of true satisfaction. The kind you don’t notice, because it’s always there. But life will throw some shit at you, and as a formerly depressed person, life’s downs could really get you down. You might need help to get past all the grief that will come your way. More than the average person, because you run the risk of getting stuck in the depressed state of mind. That’s what I’ve discovered.
As for shame, if you’re lucky like me, you can leave it in the past. I can guarantee you’ll be happier this way. Choose to forgive yourself, and don’t stress about people talking. You’ll find it really doesn’t matter.