Tag: lying

Pain. An explanation.

Be it physical or mental pain, it is our body screaming that whatever it is that is hurting us, needs to stop.

When we put ourselves in pain, we want to tell ourselves to stop asking so much of us. We want to tell ourselves, that we need to protect ourselves better. Protect ourselves from other people, from pressure, from our own perfectionist thinking.

We are asking for permission to cuddle up and hide somewhere. We are asking for a break. Asking to be allowed to rest.

Who is it, we need permission from? Who are we asking, to give us a break? Mostly ourselves. It is mostly a way of telling ourselves, that whatever is going on is too much for us to handle. Telling ourselves, to allow us to breath. To stop having unrealistic huge demands for ourselves.

We are also asking the people who know for protection. From our own perfectionism. We are asking them to tell us that we don’t need to push further, without rest to be worthy of their care. We should be able to do that ourselves. But we are not. So we ask for it. In a way that is probably the most desperate in existence. We are in a position, where hurting ourselves and begging for help is way easier than loving ourselves and taking care of ourselves.

Mental pain is not taken seriously unless it is actively affecting our lives. And that is so very subjective. So we reach for the blade to make sure the existence of our pain cannot be denied. Because we ourselves, are the first person to deny that pain. Telling ourselves, that everything is just fine. Telling ourselves, that whatever it is, we can handle it. Telling ourselves, that everyone around us is handling it just fine, so why should we be any different? And that is how we spiral down into a dark place. Trying to be strong. Trying to survive.

Until we reach the point, where we are in incredible pain. Pain we cannot handle anymore. And we slide down into hating ourselves, for not taking care of ourselves. We start hating. And hatred makes blind. We are unable to rationally grasp what we need and we start screaming for help.

We need the pain to stop. But we do not have the strength to make it happen. There is no pain-killer-pill for mental pain. But if there was, it would be the people closest to us. Because they are the only way we can escape the parallelization, we are in before it would naturally stop. But once we have escaped the trap of pain, we will be the ones, to protect us against it in the future. People can help us get out. But only we can help ourselves to not fall in the first place.

I wish I could believe

Four minutes. One song. That is how long it took me to write the 8 letters onto my skin. My hands sweaty. And shaky. My eye twitching. My fear is as strong as always. And I feel nothing. Nothing. All I know is that I will always be convicted. That whenever there is someone who is getting close to me I will end up trying to explain. That I will be asked questions. Even after I may or may not have won my war. There will always be those lines and letters on my arm. On my legs. Manifestations of my pain. My addiction. My fear.

Once more I have lost my “why”. I have no clue, why I cut. I just do it. It does not help. It does not change a thing.
“The person you hurt most is yourself.” Maybe. I should care, right? Do you know what I do care about? The fact that I don’t cut deep anymore. The fact that it never actually bleeds. just a few red lines. It saddens me. Scary right? I know. I do not want to protect myself anymore. I cannot stop the pain. Trying to is just a waste of time and energy. I know. I know. I hear everyone’s voices in my head:

“You will make it.”
“It will be okay.”
“I am here for you.”
“It will get better, easier.”
“There are people who can help you.”

Lies. Nothing but lies. Form people close to me. Some of them have an idea of what is happening. Some just really care. Some helpless. But I have known this for years. Known it long before I started cutting: We are alone. And it does not matter. We are who we are. In the place we are. We can do whatever we want.

We do not give up hope. We try to keep fighting. And we want to believe those people telling us that it’s gonna be alright. We want to. But… Until I experience that it is true. That it can get better, I can’t believe it anymore. I trust so easily. I want to believe that there is an end to the darkness. I do want to hold on to the light. But at some point the poet in me dies. Leaving the scientist alone. The scientist that looks at past events to determine the future. And those past events show no sign of light. It is not even about the cutting anymore. It is about what’s wrong inside me. I should get up and fight. I should be trying to find a way. But… I am trembling. I am parallelized.

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.

The Spiral. My Prison

I have become toxic. Not that is a surprise to me. But I just realized it. And… I do not hate myself for it. I just hate the fact that it happened. I hate to put the people close to me through this pain. And the more I say this, the more I wonder if this is even true. I keep saying it. And yet I am toxic. Spiraling down in that panic. I cannot stop it. I can’t. I do not have the strength to do that. Maybe I should prove that I mean, what I say. Should leave. Point being: I do not want to be alone, but I isolate myself (why does it feel like I have written these exact words down before?!).

I am locked up, am I not? In Fear. And Pain. And this self-imposed loneliness. I can try to get out. And sometimes it will feel like I was successful. But I cannot actually be free. I am at that point where I have stopped thinking about whether or not I created this situation for myself. Because now… it is here. It is real. It hurts and I just want it to stop. But I do not have the strength to do that. So I am just letting it happen. Hoping that one day it may end. The definition of giving in.

Down once more

I’m listening to my breathing as the urge takes a hold of me. The two days old red lines on my thighs hurt. I used a blunt blade. Stupid craft knife. I want -I need- an actual razor blade. The alcohol is coursing through my veins. I used to think I was incapable of cutting when I’m drunk. Not true.

There is not even a trigger for this urge. Just me fighting. Cutting is an addiction. If I slide down that path more than once in a few days… I am back in that world of pain. And there I do not need any triggers whatsoever.

Sometimes I manage to distract myself until the urge has gone away. That is actually the case fairly often. Thank God. But with every time I cannot. With every bloody letter on my skin I spiral down a bit deeper. And the further I fall the greater the chance of me cutting again.

I know the mechanisms. It is not like I am blind. And I say I want to stop. But I am doubting my own words. I am questioning my own motivation. Do I really really want to stop? Have I become so addicted? Do I want to fight? Do I really want to find the energy to fight the urge? Would it not be so much easier to just give in and decide to not care about what cutting means to anyone else? Because it is release for me. Or is it?

The 2nd Step: when to see a therapist

Before I went into therapy I gathered opinions. Many of them. The thought that I might need therapy had occured to me after the second time I had cut. But at that point, I found, that I had it under control, at least that was one of the reasons I told myself and to be honest, it was true and for months I did not cut again.

When I started cutting again, a very close friend of mine told me, that I needed help. He kept pushing and pushing.  At some point he declared that he did not want to hear anything about my self-harm until I was seeing someone. Today I think that was mostly a mechanism to protect himself from my pain. And though it did make me quite angry, I think I always understood, why he did that.

So I asked the people around me for their opinions. And I got them. Some said, it would be a good idea. Others said, I had to decide that on my own. And I think that is very true. Therapy will not do you any good, if you do not want to get better.

When we realize that you are sick, we need to want to get better and find a way to make that happen. We are not alone. And we can get the help, we need. But we are allowed to find our very own healing process. Maybe it includes a therapist, maybe it does not. In the end that is entirely up to us. We just need to be able to say: “I am working on getting better.” And as long as we can say that without lying, we are good.

But what is the point, where we do need professional help? I think it is the point where the quality of our life is significantly decreased and we are not in a position to change that. That may be, because we cut ourselves, or because we have panic attacks, or we black out, or we cannot contain our anger. And unless we have an actionable plan to get better, seeing a therapist to help you find that actinable plan is a good idea. But again: In the end everyone has to decide that for themselves.

Hating ourselves

Self-hate is a problem. For some it is a reason to self-harm. For some it is a contributor. And for some it is just something they bury deep inside them. It devours them. And comes to the surface every time they feel that they failed.

Let’s take a step back. Where does self-hate come from? Why do we hate ourselves? Why? I think there are a variety of reasons. But a prerequisite to hate ourselves is that we believe that we are in control. Because if we have no control, we do not get to hate ourselves. Because if we cannot do anything, we cannot be guilty. And if we aren’t guilty, why hate ourselves?

That’s good news, isn’t it? We are in control. Which means that there is something about us, that we do not like. And we can change that. But what if we make the same mistake over and over and over again? What if we fall day after day? And we reach that point where we feel like it has no point. We do not want to get back up. We want to give in. We just want to hate ourselves for falling.

Again. Why? Why do we keep failing? We do we seem to be resistant to learning? There is no simple answer here. There are a few points that can be intertwined with each other. There are however a two major ones:

  1. We do say it is a mistake, but we do not actually believe so.
  2. We have not found the right way to avoid the mistake.

The first one is pretty much equal to lying to ourselves. It means that we are doing something that we like, but for some reason we think that it is wrong. Our believes collide with what we want. Well… sadly this has happened to me before. Several times. This can happen and sometimes we do not even know it is happening. We are not trying to lie to ourselves. But I think there is one crucial step we have to take, once we notice what is going on: Either we need to adjust our believes, to match our actions. Or we have to adjust our actions to match our believes.

And this is the second point: We might just have not found the right way to make sure we do not fall back into the same old traps. We need to develop strategies and techniques to trick ourselves into not making the same mistakes over and over. And it is fine to not find the right way immediatly. We all have to go our own ways. We are indviduals. We need to figure out what works for us. And often times that is a trial and error process. And that’s alright, as long as we keep going.

Now coming from someone who did self-harm and who has slipped down into the addiction of self-harm before that might sound very hypocritical. And yes. I have struggled with self-hate. Of course. I hate myself for cutting. And I hate myself, if I don’t. So yes. I might always be disgusted with myself, no matter what I do. But I also know that I do not have to hate. No one does.

Again: Failing is part of living. Falling is part of living. But Life is not about our failures. It is about how we got back up again. It is about how we grew from our failures. How we managed to go another day without cutting. How we lived our lives smiling a little bit more every day.

We do not have a reason to hate ourselves, for our mistakes. Not as long as we honestly fight them. Not as long as we try to become better. To not make them. Make plans to avoid them. Take action. Know that we are the ones forging our future. Or choose to make those mistakes. And then deal with the consequences. The choice really is ours.

But no matter what we do: There is no reason to hate ourselves. Because hate is only destructive.

Tortured by Fear

Imagine sitting in a dark room. Alone. Without sound, but the beating of your racing heart. And it does not stop. You try to control your breath. Slow your heart down. But fear keeps rushing it. From time to time you seem to see the walls around you moving. Closing in on you. Maybe they will crush you one day. But there is nothing you can do. Nothing. No sound. No smell. No heat. No cold. Just fear. Parallelizing you.

This is how my days feel right now. I am trying to distract myself. I am trying. It does not work. I cannot speak about my fear. I am not allowed to. I cannot. It will go away. Hopefully. I keep telling myself, it will be alright. And I know I might be lying to myself.

No, I do not want to cut. I want to end it for good. A few months ago this thought scared the hell out of me. I remember thinking, that “I would never do it… but this was exactly what I thought, before I started cutting.” Now the thought does not scare me. Because I am so busy being tortured by fear. I still don’t think, I could kill myself. But… I wish I was faced with the choose of my life and someone else’s. I’d gladly choose to safe the other person.

The people closest to me. The whole world. I am not mad at anyone. I am not disappointed in anyone. These emotions I only have for myself. I still love. The beauty. The people close to me. I still wish to protect them. Who I hate is myself. All I want is to escape the fear. I know I cannot. I know I just have to wait. Be patient. And… When this all is over. I will have suffered enough from this anguish to forgive myself. I will go on with my life.

But for now… for now I am in a dark room. With walls closing in on me. With me trying to distract myself from that very room. Trembling. Shivering. And nothing I can do. Nothing.

Fighting with Kindness

When someone calls us “sweety” over and over again, we want to rise to that expectation. We want to become sweeter, kinder and nicer. At least that is what I experienced. And I think that with us trying to be kind in general, we will also be more likely to be kind to ourselves. And this is where we win. Because this can protect us from hurting ourselves. This ties into the overall mindset of positivity. Which I find is so crucial to recovering from all this hate towards ourselves that we fuel.

Let’s take a step back. What the heck is female energy? To me it is the desire to take care and protect those who need protection. Those who are close to our hearts. It is the wish for peace. The wish for a safe home. The need for beauty around us. The will to be sweet and cute. It is not unique to women at all. It is that it is women who we are seeing protraying that engery, most times.

Female energy is in strong contrast to us trying to be strong. Pushing on. Forcing everything beyond the limits. Female energy aims to preserve the beauty. It is not weak. It is just less aggressive, less outgoing. It aims at the peace and protection rather than trying to conquer the world.

And this is exactly, why it is so good at helping us to fight self-harm: it is an energy that will drive us to preserve ourselves.

Now, how can we connect to that drive? In the rush of our world we always try to be tougher. We are constantly competing never calming down. Never appreciating the beauty around us. And that is exactly where we need to start: In seeing the flower on our way to work. On seeing the colors of a sunset. And realizing how beautiful it is. Because we cannot try to protect the beauty if we do not see it.

But we do not only need to see the beauty around us. While that is all well and good and important to lift our spirits, even more important is to see the beauty within ourselves. Now that is the hard part. Because we all have flaws and we tend to see them waaaaay more than we see how awesome we really are. And I’ll not ask anyone to lie to oneself, because that will not help either and might even be a source for self-hatred. So no lying. But then how are we supposed to see the good in us?

For me there are many things. I have found that clothes can help a lot. Simple things like putting on a cute piece of clothing like a lace-top, or painting my nails. Putting on a smile. Telling someone close to me I love them, or patting my pet. All those things can work wonders. Because we can look in the mirror and see a nice person. Someone who is worth protecting.

Honestly, I think telling ourselves, that we are wonderful, is something  we forget is legit. Because it has nothing to do with obsessing about one’s looks. But with accepting who we are. And creating that person, we want to be. And there is nothing wrong with that. There is nothing wrong with slowing down our lives, to appreciate what is around us. To appreciate what and who we love. And to appreciate who we are.

And this appreciation. That awareness. That wish to be kind will connect us to our female energy. It will make us happier people. And as we are happier and smile more, we will become more beautiful, more amazing and will notice that change. We will notice the positive mindset we have towards ourselves. And along with this we will be empowered. We will start being at peace with ourselves, instead of being at war. And hand in hand with that, our desire to harm ourselves will begin to fade.

 

 

The very first step

The first step in recovering from anything is probably the hardest, but it is also very simple: it is admitting to ourselves, that we are not as fine, as we like to make everyone (including ourselves) believe. With a mental disorder it is just so easy to deny that we are sick and push through everyday life.

The problem is that we cannot fight something, that we do not even admit is there. And fight we must, because those things, they don’t just disappear. Who are we kidding, when we say: “It’s just a rough patch, it’s gonna get better.” No, it’s not. But that is not a problem. Because we can and we will get better, once we stop living in ignorance.

But, why do we choose to live in ignorance? Why do we lie to everybody? Why do we prevent ourselves from actually getting better? There are many reasons. (In fact I believe nothing in context with self-harm is simple.) One of them is being afraid of being judged. The little sister of that one is being ashamed. Then there is the hate we feel for ourselves and the idea that we deserve to suffer, because we are a failure. The idea that we cannot be helped. Or the thought that it is not a problem. That it will resolve itself. That we are just making it up.

All of those are reasons keeping us from seeing the truth. For me personally it was the thinking that I was just being a drama queen in search for attention. And I did not want to reward that by giving my problem any attention. I was ashamed of myself, because I did not understand one thing: Even if we are doing it for attention, there is everything wrong with thinking that is a reason for not being worth to treat our self-harm. There are so many other ways to gain attention, hurting ourselves is not something that we are naturally drawn to. In fact it is what we are trying to avoid at all cost. So, there is no way that we “just want to get attention”. There is definitely something else going on. There is a good reason, we are yearning to be seen. And we need to deal with that. Not hide it.

No matter what we feel, self-harm is a problem. And we are allowed to view it as such. We do not need to be ashamed of it. We did not ask for it. And no matter, what it is that makes us think, we are a failure. We are not. And we do not deserve to suffer. We deserve to be helped, to overcome this. We deserve to be loved. We are loved. In our darkest hours we tend to forget this. But we are loved. So we deserve to love ourselves. With all that we are. Including our self-harm. The goal is not to hate ourselves for it. The goal is to help us get better.

And in order to get better. In order to believe ourselves, when we say, that we suffer from self-harm, I find it helpful to talk to someone about it. Because most of our reasons for not admitting what is going on, is a hate for ourselves, and a fear of being judged. So the experience, that other people do not hate and judge us for our self-harm is so helpful in actually seeing how it is may be a problem but it is nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to hide. Trusting someone with our issue shows nothing but great strength. And honors the person we trust. I have made the exprience that those people highly appreciate our trust and faith in them and will try everything they can to help us get better.

But before we can get better, we need to view self-harm as a disorder that we have. A disorder that is not our fault. That does not lessen, the wonderful person we are. So please, if you are affected, allow yourself to have those issues, without hating yourself for them. Because you are an inspeakablely precious person, no matter what you run into!