Dealing with getting worse

When the leaves fall and the sky starts crying many of us just want to hide and cry as well. Autumn is known for causing depression. But it is even worse, when it coincides with us failing to keep moving towards our vision. Because then all we can do is crumble. And in a matter of days we are back to the very dark places we thought we had left behind for good.

We don’t talk about it, because we are ashamed of ourselves, for not keeping up the good work. For breaking the promises to ourselves. Again. We keep telling the people around us, we are fine, because we do not feel entitled to feel bad. And with us not telling how we actually are, we detach from the people around us. And just like that our entire lives become empty and cold.

We find ourselves having a tinnitus again. Find our feet tickling until we loose all feeling in them. And then we may realize that we have been not taking our medication properly for weeks. Our sleep starts being interrupted. Dreams haunting us. We keep being tired, even though we know we are getting enough sleep.

And we blame ourselves for all of it. We start hating ourselves for letting it all slide. We try to get our lives back on track. Try to focus on our visions. Try to do that homework that we have been putting off. Try to get out of bed. But nothing can stop the sadness inside us. And we know one thing: Even though we try. Even though we try to push away all the negativity, the moment one single thing goes wrong, we will fall. We are fine. For now. But there is nothing we can do to stop the sadness. To stop the cold. To stop the loneliness.

But even though we know we will fall at some point. We keep fighting. Some of us do for the ones close to us. Some do, because they do not want to admit, that they have issues, that they need to address. And some just don’t see the point. I tried to deal with it. I tried to make it go away for good. I know it won’t.

Sometimes life is not about making everything perfect. Sometimes life is about making it through. Sometimes it is about keeping the darkness at bay rather than destroying it. It cannot be destroyed. It will not go away. It will linger beneath the surface and break through at some point. All I want to do, is to make sure it doesn’t destroy me when that point comes. And at some point that has to be good enough.

But how can we make it through? It is a matter of balance in attitude and mindset. For one we have to dump perfectionism. And on the other hand we cannot give up. We need to get stuff done. We have to keep making progress.

We have to get rid of perfectionism, because if we don’t we will never be happy with our progress. And we will keep beating ourselves up.

And we need to figure out what is the most important thing to do. We need to not get overwhelmed. What we do does not have to be perfect, it does not have to be a huge task. But it has to be something. This is what makes sure, that once we feel like working towards our visions again, we don’t give up immediately because the things we did not do pilled up.

Getting motivated may be difficult, but we can, by remembering the recent things that we are pleased with or proud of. And then it is just one step at a time. Living every day a little better than the last one.

Disrespect.

I think I may have finally found the reason I cut. Or at least a mayor corner piece of that puzzle. I do not claim that it is the same for everyone. In fact I am pretty sure it is not. But I know that my core-issue is an issue many have and even though not all of us may develop self-harm as symptom working on it leads to a happier life.

When I got into therapy my goal was to find out, why I cut. Find out, what was “wrong with me”. I think my therapist was actually on to it. She said “there were just so many forces” driving me to do things which lead to me not knowing what I should do. I think the forces around me, the field of tension I was in however only brought out, what was really the issue. A lack of respect for myself. I actually realized that talking to a friend.

As long as we are not under pressure. As long as we are not tested, we just live our lives. But when we are put to the test and we need to do the right thing there are two key steps to success. First we need to know what we want. And usually that is not the thing that feels right. It is the vision we have for ourselves. A vision, that we created, while we were not in that field of tension. And then we need the courage and the strength to respect ourselves enough to act upon that vision.

And that is where I failed in the past. I did not respect myself. I was faced with decisions, I did not want to make. And I did not have the strength to make the right choice. So I turned against myself. I did not cut, because I hated myself. I cut, because I was trying to find an exit in a disorder. I was trying to escape accountability for my choices. And the fact that I did that, makes me be ashamed of myself, which is truly not helpful in building respect.

And I still get the triggers, when faced with though decisions. Which is exactly why I need to practice to respect myself. Respect my feelings, my emotions, my limits. My priorities. My vision. My values.

But I think this can be learned. When we are aware that we do not respect ourselves, we can do something about it. And I find that it is mostly recognizing, that we are more than good enough. Because trying every day to come one step closer to our vision is the very best anyone including ourselves could ever ask of us. The version of us, who is trying to become the best version of us is the best version of us. I have said that before: we cannot expect us to be perfect, when we wake up tomorrow. But we can make tomorrow the day we become a little better.

And if we hit a wall which we inevitably will, we can remember to respect that limit of ours and try again later. We do not loose at life, because we fail at something. We loose, the moment we stop trying. We are right on track even if we just try to try.

And the best thing about respecting ourselves, and acknowledging how we feel and respecting those feelings is that it makes us more confident. And it will lead to us being respected by others. Because when we respect ourselves, when we feel comfortable with ourselves, and every part of us, we will automatically demand respect.

I am not saying that we should not take responsibility for our actions, because we feel bad. I think sometimes all we need to do is try to feel a little better, try to get through a though patch, because we cannot improve ourselves, as long as we feel like the world is ending.

The journey to peace (roll credits *ding*) is not a simple one. And doesn’t end after a few weeks. And sometimes even if we think we are at peace, if we are not careful we might loose that peace. But the journey is one that we are all on. Everyone. Not just someone who is suffering from a mental disease. We all have to choose whether or not to take one more step towards peace hundreds of times every single day. We can all respect ourselves a little more.

I am so very glad I figured this one out. Because I can finally stop blaming my issue on other people. I can finally take responsibility for my cutting. Because its source is my own doing. But that also means that I can change it. And knowing this is so empowering. It is like the torch in the darkness.

I want to focus on what I want more, than I focus on what I don’t want. For one simple reason: if I focus on what I want, I focus on my vision, I focus on respecting that vision. Respecting myself in that way. Because I have known who I want to be for a long time. I just failed to become that person most of the time. Which is alright. But that will change. One step at a time.

Self-respect is not egoism. It is taking care of ourselves, and becoming the best version of ourselves, such that we can be there for others. Because we cannot do that if all we can think about is the blade. This is why self-respect is important for everyone: We are part of this world. And when we become better, the world does with us.

All I hear…

More than once I have been told:

You are not badly ill, overall you are a healthy young woman.

I know it means, that I can become fine, without loosing myself in the process. It is supposed to mean that I can and will get better. But that is not what I hear. All I hear is:

I am not sick.

And there are a number of consequences to that. If they do not think I am sick, well can I stop trying to get better? Because if I am not sick there is no need for me trying. There is no need for me working. Do I have to stop being proud of myself if I resist the urge? Can I stop trying to distract myself. Stop trying to find alternatives? Can I stop keeping in mind that I cannot drink too much, because I might slip? Because substance abuse is just another symptom for an illness, that I do not have?

Or does it mean I am imposing? Do they really think I would be faking the pain? As a matter of fact I have acted hurt before, which hurt me in return. But really… no human happily physically hurts him-/herself. I do not know if it is even possible to fake being in pain to this point.

Am I creating it all myself. Am I suffering from nothing but an idea, that I created myself? Is it all the exaggeration of a drama queen. A normal reaction of a young woman to extreme fields of tension?

That is not what they are saying? Well… If I am not that sick, then what is that pain I am feeling? Why am I cutting? Why do I hurt myself? Why do passions fade away. Slip away under my hand? Why do I feel like crying might help, but all it does is leaving me more empty and more fatalistic than before.

I know. no one is trying to invalidate my emotions. No one is trying to say the way I perceive the world is untrue. But that is all I hear. If I am not terribly sick, then why did I even put up with therapy? And why am I tossed around on emotions? Why do I feel fine one moment and the next I just… wish for it all to end?

And if this is normal… please tell me how everyone puts up with it. How can one live without breaking if this is the norm? How? How is not everybody addicted to alcohol and other drugs? I am supposed to shut up and deal with it? I will gladly. If I am told how the fork this is possible.

I know it is never meant to mean any of this. I know it with my head. But it is not how it feels. Because, frankly I wish I was not sick. And when I am not spiraling down, I appreciate the efforts to cheer me up. And I am even sure, that when someone says something like that they are telling the truth. And I know that there are a great many times, where I can see that truth myself. Moments where I feel fine. Moments of happiness. But there very same statement can be so devastating when I am at my worst, because it questions my perception of things. And the issue with that is, that there is none better at doubting me than myself and that is not something that should be enhanced in any way.

I am not saying I cannot handle the truth. I am not saying that no one should ever tell me that I am mostly healthy. Because it is the truth. But sometimes what I have described is all I hear. Maybe… because it is all I want to hear.

Before we cut

We do not wake up one morning and decide that now would be a good time to cut. Until we cut we prepare ourselves mentally. We keep thinking about it. For days. Maybe even for weeks. Maybe we even hold the blade in our hands. Stare at it. Unable to do it. But that is not the worst part. The worst part is the cold and confusion. The world of pain we live through before we cut. Because until we actually put a blade to our skin, we have hurt ourselves a lot mentally. And in my experience the depth of the cut reflects the mental pain we have been going though. If we scratch our skin, we are trying to escape a dark pit of pain. If we cut until the blood flows. If we cut until the point where we question when it will stop bleeding. We have walked through hell. Mentally.

This is why trying to make us stop cutting will not actually help us. Sure, if we stop cutting we will be spared the scars on our skin, but it does not mean we are healed. It does not mean that the mental pain is gone. And there are so many reasons for that mental pain. Trauma, being in a field of tension, being alone, being empty, one’s relationship to oneself…. they are uncountable and trying to list them all will never do everyone justice.

All I am trying to say is: if we want to heal, we will have to heal from the inside. This is why forcing someone into therapy may save their body but they may wish for death, because controlling them may silence the part of us that wants to recover. Forcing them into something is most likely going to increase their mental pain. If we want to help someone in pain, we can give them advice and if they trust us we may have a chance at leading them to therapy. Talking them into it. Changing their minds. But we cannot do anything against their will. Because it is them who will have to heal. It is them who will have to do the work to get better. And if we cannot decide to heal, we cannot really get better.

And there is another point: depending on how long we have been in the darkness we may not even know what the light is like anymore. We may not even know how it is to not be so hurt that we cut regularly. And of course we know that we are not well. But we do not know what it means to be well. We have forgotten how it is to be free of the blade’s slavery. And we may have given up hope. But even then: unless we want to heal we cannot get better.

I think deep down we all want to heal. No one likes hating oneself. No one likes being in pain. But we may very well be tired of trying to get better. Why? Because maybe we have tried without results. Or maybe we do not believe that we can actually be helped. Maybe we are afraid what a therapist might think. Maybe we simply do not have the energy to put in the work to get better.

And this is the point where we need support. Of those we love. Of those we trust. Not to push us. But to not give up hope in us, even if we cannot believe in ourselves anymore. Sometimes we need someone to gently guide us because we do not have the strength to make the decision to get better ourselves. And that support is worth more than anyone can imagine. Because it may prevent us, from hating ourselves, as even if we cannot love ourselves, there is someone we trust who obviously does. And who still trusts us. So how bad can it really be?

I know for myself that I would have slipped into the darkness deeper and more often if it weren’t for the people around me who were always there no matter what. They are the real reason I can look into the mirror without disgust for what I see. They are the reason I am not an utterly and hopelessly addicted to cutting. So: Thank you.

Getting worse, without actually feeling it.

I am supposed to study. Supposed to deal with my self-harm. Trust me, it’s not that easy. It is not as straight forward. I feel the darkness is just getting stronger. I am running in circles. Questioning whether I am developing an actual depression. Why I am I suspecting it? Well, I am crying. A lot. The weekend I spent binging TV. And that’s how I spent every weekend in the last 7 weeks. I am aware that a TV addiction is not a tell tale sign for a depression, but it can be one of the symptoms.

This morning I woke up with a tinnitus. If I think about it, I know that I am worse than I’ve been for a long time, but I feel strangely okay. Just a big bulk of nothingness. And I know that’s not good. Because nothing is exactly what will get me cutting eventually. The keyword is “eventually”. For now I am okay. The problem is: I may feel okay, but before I know why, before I know that something is wrong, I end up cutting. And I don’t feel bad. Neither before nor afterwards. It is like I just don’t care anymore. So I am just doing what I can: trying to study. Trying to fill the void of nothingness with knowledge. It does not work. But I gotta keep trying.

The War I Fight

In the context of cutting, I have mentioned before, that I often do not even want to stop. I realized that cutting is not my enemy. I do not hate cutting. I do not hate myself for cutting. Cutting is a friend. When I have added another line onto my skin, I do not put the blade away hating myself. I am just as empty as I was before. But I do not feel the need to cut. When I have sled down into addiction, the need to cut grows stronger and about every 48 hours I end up giving in. So, when I am done, my thought is:
“I don’t have to cut for next few hours.”

How does this make sense with the fact that I call cutting a problem?! I said, that anyone who cuts should probably get help. But if cutting is a friend, and we do not want to stop, why would we seek help?

Just because I do not hate myself for cutting, does not mean, I do not hate myself. Just because cutting is not the actual problem does not mean that I do not have a problem. I hate myself for being weak. I hate myself for being negative (yes, this is why I make such a fuss about positivity). I hate myself for the sadness. For the intense feeling of loneliness that I cannot handle. That darkness inside me. That darkness that I express, when I cut, is what is my problem. Is what I want to get rid of. Is what I want to treat. Is what I need help with.

A friend of mine recently answered my question whether cutting defined me by saying: “No, but it’s a big part of you.” Well, I guess he meant the darkness. He meant the pain. Because cutting is just expressing that. And this is why this entire thing is so hard… I am not at war with cutting. I am at war with myself. With the feeling of emptiness. The feeling of not being good enough. The sadness that just takes control even though I know I have everything I need. I have everything to be happy. And yet: I cannot escape the cold inside me. I cannot escape myself. I cannot experience peace. Because I am fighting myself. And I do not know why. Sure, I know I hate myself for sleeping through lectures and classes. For binge-watching random shows instead of studying. But I don’t feel like that is the actual problem.

This is perfect conflict material for a book: I am fighting a war with myself for a reason that I do not know. And I do not know how to find that problem, so how am I supposed to change anything? And then again: I have been told there might not be an actual issue. It might be impossible to pinpoint it. I might never really be free of the darkness. And… that is scary. Because I do not want that to be the case. I want to be okay some day. I want it to stop. I am not afraid of fighting. I am not too weak to fight and win. But I cannot fight something that I don’t know. I could win, if this thing was winnable. If there was a single way to win this, I would go it. No matter what. But I have not found that way. And I have not met anyone who can show me that way.

Just a word on how cutting is perceived: It may seem like attention-seeking. And it may even be that. But there is so much more behind it. When I started cutting, I thought it was simple. But it is not. And I assume this goes for any addiction. Maybe this even goes for anything in this world that involves human beings. So, I think, we are too quick to judge. Especially me. If there is something that my condition has taught me it is that things are not always as they seem and while it is easy to objectively determine is something is right or wrong, it is impossible to judge a person.

So, I think especially social media, but we in our daily lives, should go easier on people. Because, we do not know why they do something. Maybe they are just hurting. Maybe they are doing it for a reason. Maybe they have no choice. Maybe… maybe. Point is: we do not know. And I grew up thinking that someone who is addicted, is addicted by his/her own fault. But I have learned that this is not necessarily true. And think we should -I should- treat addicted people more with sympathy than with judgment. Because the sympathy might actually help them, while the judgment definitely will not.

The moment when we question our strength

The moment we think we are fine, we get ourselves in a situation where we realize that we really aren’t. We end up in bathrooms. Cutting. Crying. Just sitting there hoping the panic goes by. But it won’t. Your body screams. Tickling. Twitching. Heat racing through your veins. But the pain doesn’t stop.

How does it feel when your heart breaks? How does it feel when you reached the end of the road and you know that it’s all over? Is it cold? Does it not tear you apart anymore? Because if it did you were still trying to fight. It’s when you have lost all hope. When you have given up the fight… that is when being shattered to pieces is peaceful. Because you have stopped trying to put yourself together. Do we need to give up to find peace?

Why do all the attempts to get better fail? And why is it so frustrating? Frustrating enough that all I want to do is declare my hate for everything and break into pieces. Irreversibly. Why do I feel like giving up? Maybe because I have always kept saying that I was about to get better. And I believed it. But it was never true. This is not how I imagined to be. Why does the cold not end? It should have been over a week ago. It should have. Maybe it will never. And I am starting to loose my strength. I am loosing my will to fight.

I once trusted that I could become better. That trust hast faded into a hope. And that hope is so faint now. I lost the will to hope. And when that happened… I turned my back at everyone. Because I do not want to hurt anyone. My pain shall not hurt those I love. And still. Those I love will tell me that it is not true. Then why does it feel like it? Pushing you away hurts. But putting you through my pain -my pain that I am not even able to name- hurts just as much. How can I trust that you will be able to handle it, when I am not able to deal with it? How can you still hope, when I am giving up? Why can you not see that it’s almost over. That there is nothing left to say. Nothing left to do. Just waiting until the fall ends and I hit the ground.

I am probably exaggerating. As always. I am probably just absolutely normal. Just going through some emotionally intense times. Am I not? How am I different from anybody else? The answer is: I am not. What I feel. What I experience… happens to everyone at some point. I do not know how other people deal with this. How other people can survive this. But I don’t feel like I can. That is probably the thing that makes me different: I am not strong enough to go through this. Others are.

Well… I even think giving up needs strength. I do not think, that I have that strength. Not yet. I am still trying. I guess… If I wasn’t I would not be writing this. But I am at the point where I look at the blade and think:

“You do not have to do this.”
“I know, but I want to.”

I am supposed to not hate myself for the darkness inside me. And you know… I don’t. Because I feel nothing. But pain. I am so good at covering it. I guess everyone with a mental disorder is. We smile and laugh to calm others down. To make them believe that we are fine. But it is just another lie. A lie that we tell because if we don’t we are just going to make ourselves and those we love more miserable? How is accepting the cutting and giving in different? Maybe I will find an answer to that question. At some point. For now: I am trying to not fall any deeper.