It is no one’s fault!

When someone we love finds out, that I cut again, my first reaction always is to apologize. And I fear I am not alone with this.We are hurting. And someone just saw our pain, and we know that this person is hurting now as well. And we wish it was not that way. So we apologize. Or we don’t want to anger them. Or to disappoint them. We want their forgiveness. So try to appease them with an apology.

But it is no one’s fault. Including our own. If someone got physically ill, that person will not be apologizing. So why should we be apologizing for our own pain? Why should we be apologizing, for being mentally not well? I have never been diagnosed. So on paper I am perfectly well. Does that mean, that I am well? Does that mean, that my self-harm is… what? A lie? Not so bad? No one with just the tiniest bit of sensitivity on the topic of mental health will make any accusations.

We should never apologize for being hurt. Because it sends the wrong signals, it makes us believe, that we are doing something wrong, that fault somehow. If we trust someone with our self-harm, we don’t want their blame. Not really. We want them to take care of us. In some way. But we need to say that. Not that we are sorry. Because even though we may wish, that we never hurt that person with our truth, we may not be sorry for a mental illness.

For me this has already gone to the next level. About a year ago, I noticed that I was apologizing for no real reason all the time. Mostly to my at-the-time boyfriend. But after some time I realized, that I was not really sorry. I was hurting. What I should have been saying was “I am hurting, please take care of me.”

But I know now that I have a really hard time admitting when I am hurting. Even to myself. I often don’t notice until the blade cuts my skin. I know I talk in riddles when it comes to how I am. I know I cannot admit how I feel. Because technically, I am fine, right? We don’t want to tell people, because we do not want to hurt them. And that is fine. But if we do, we should not apologize. Someone will judge us for mental health issues, should not be close enough that we would tell that person about it anyways.

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.

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.

Hope and Pain

I realize how volatile I am. How my emotions swing from me loving from the bottom of my heart. From being the girl on top of the world to being sad, pushing everyone away. Hating.

Deep inside me the sensation has grown that I cannot be helped. No matter how many amazing people I have around me, who want to help me. And no matter how much I wish they could help me. They cannot.

This goes hand in hand with the fact that forcing someone to therapy will never do any good. We have to accept the truth at some point. We have to get better ourselves. And we have to walk this path alone. No matter how much we may fear loneliness. The only way out of the pain, is through more pain. And I am not saying, we should all give up hope. Because there is a way out. But it is not as easy as we keep thinking. And we are more alone than we like.

When there is no one there to help us, we have to help ourselves. No human being can take away our pain, no matter their efforts. All there is left to do is for us to be courageous enough to embrace the cold of this sickness and to realize that we are our only way out.

But there is one thing that all those people trying to help us can tell us: We are worth the efforts. We are worth it, even if we cannot believe it. We may not be understood. We may be in the dark. We may be exhausted from all the mood swings that throw us all over the emotional map, but we cannot give up. Because if we do, we are insulting everyone who ever tried helping us. All their efforts are in vain if we stop fighting.

Sometimes that thought is all that keeps me going. All that keeps me from grabbing a blade. Because in a world where every single thing we believe in, every single thing we feel, can become the total opposite in the blink of an eye, the blade, its impartial cold and the pain it causes becomes the only constant in our lives. Becomes certainty.

And certainty is all we long for. And when we loose faith in the people who are close to us. In the people who believe in us. When the emptiness swallows our trust, we seek comfort in the cuts. A friend once told me to put up pictures everywhere. To remind me of the people who believe in me. The people who I do not want to disappoint. Hoping that this will keep me from doing it. However all it does is it makes me feel like I already am a disappointment.

And I know that everyone who does believe in me will contradict me. But I cannot just stop feeling a certain way. I am aware that this is one step of getting better. But when it comes to getting better, sometimes every single step feels like running a marathon. And yet: we are the only ones who can run it.

So all we can do is hold on to the believe that there is a way out, even if it feels like it is going to take everything we’ve got. And sometimes even believing that there is a way takes everything we’ve got. But it is crucial to getting better. Realizing that we are the only ones responsible for what is happening to us. Realizing that we are the ones to change something, if we do not like it the way it is now.

On our way to getting better, we have so many people who wish to help us, but can’t. Well, their faith in us. Their pushing us to get better, may be the thing that gives us the will to heal. May be the thing that empowers us to run that marathon that the next step is.

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.

Emotional Violence

Where is the point where we actually are sick? When is our suffering “big enough”? When is it real? Is it enough if we break down and cry on a daily basis? Do we have to hurt ourselves? Be deprived of our sleep? When does “Pull yourself together!” turn into “Ah you poor thing!”. When is it time to stop trying to push through and admit that we hurt?

There is not a lot I can say. Because pain is subjective. If you feel like crying. You are not making it up. If you feel like screaming and tearing down the place in anger. This is a valid emotion. Sure there are places where such emotional outbursts are plain inappropriate. But for the majority of the time this is our reality. This is how we feel. And it is exactly as real as we feel it. There is one thing I can say and that is that there is no point in making it worse by putting the blade to our skin. Because the people around us either support us for what we tell them we feel or they will not get what the cuts mean either. Someone who really loves us will never need bloody proof of the pain we are going through.

And we shouldn’t either. We should not be questioning our own emotions to the point where we just want to put a label to it. To the point where we cut ourselves, just to justify that we are not feeling alright. Just to prove how awful we feel. Just to prove how worthless we feel. How misunderstood we feel.

We are not sick the moment we cut to know and prove we are not alright. We are sick the moment we consider doing it. It is not about whether or not we have the strength to withstand that thought. We always feel that we have to be strong and that we need to fight it. And I agree, we do need to try to get better. But that does not mean, that if we feel down we are worthless. Because our emotions are absolutely valid and anyone how does not see that does not belong into our close circles because they are bound to hurt us.

I know I am a person who always tries to explain and justify anything I feel. And sometimes I get mad at myself for getting frustrated by something as little as a messed up nail-polish. But isn’t this kind of mindset just an emotional act of violence against us? And can this not even lead to us cutting? Because we want a label. Because we want to stop justifying why we hate ourselves. And we cut to make it obvious. By this logic cutting can start with emotional violence against ourselves.

If someone tells you “You are to harsh on yourself.” They may have seen exactly this. And most likely have a valid point. The thing is: we cannot expect that we just flip a switch and are in total love with ourselves. And again: we are not expected to. But I think that the first step to healing. Really healing. Not just stopping to cut, but healing on the inside, is to start acknowledging our emotions and allowing ourselves to have them. To be kind to ourselves.

Memories and their impact on us

Determinism. According to Wikipedia “Determinism is the philosophical belief that all events are determined completely by previously existing causes”. I like to hate on Determinism. Why? Because I had a very good friend who used it to justify anything. And even though he denied it, it felt to me that he was not taking responsibility for anything. To this day I still remember. And I remember that I have chosen to not use Determinism to be able to do whatever I want. But I also know that our past and our circumstances have an incredible impact on us.

This is just one example. I will always associate Determinism with that friend. And I will always remember the conversations we had about how we hardly have any free will and how helpless and sad that made me feel. But it is not the only thing that I associate with Determinism. Because I have seen that point of view, I was able to make up my own mind. And Memories are a perfect example, for how our past is part of us, but not what defines us.

We have memories. Maybe we associate a song or a movie with a certain person or situation. And every time we get confronted with said song or movie we remember. But the thing is: if that memory pains us we can do something about it. We can reprogram our brains to associate the movie or song with something else. It is like we are overwriting the memory. It is called learning. And yes, we may never forget anything that once was correlated with that song or movie. But that is actually a good thing. This memory is part of us. And we learn something with everything we experience. But just because we do not forget, does not mean that we will always remember that certain person or situation with the particular song or movie. And it will definitely not make us loose ourselves, just because the song was played in the mall.

When we look into our past, we will find things that we consider mistakes. And there is no use in denying anything. Just because we wish something never happened, we cannot simply forget it. Those memories are part of who we are today. And coming to terms with those things means admitting our mistakes. Sometimes even regretting them. But we cannot dwell on them. Because our past does not define our future. Our past may be an explanation to certain things, but do not let it be an excuse. We must learn how to rewire our brains such that we do not suffer an emotional reaction every time we think of certain chapters of our past. (Don’t get me wrong, emotional reactions are nothing to be ashamed of. But there are certain times, when we’d rather not show them, because they would be plain inappropriate.)

We cannot deny our past. But we can decide how we react to it. We can decide what we take from it. We can decide how we want to live right now.

I do not know if some day I will not feel triggered every time I run across a craft-knife or a classical razor-blade. But I know that I have not cut in a month and that this is something I can be grateful for. Every time I see those blades I can remember the pain of this world. And I can be grateful that I have experienced some of it. Because it means that when I say “I understand, what you are feeling.” I am not lying. I know that my cutting has given me a totally different approach to addiction and I dare say I understand it better now. And if all it did, was teaching me how to be less judgemental, I am grateful.

I do not deny that I have the urge to take a blade and just run it over my skin, especially in the evenings. Especially when I am alone. But whether or not I do is not predetermined. Just because I have cut in the past, does not mean, that will do it again in the future.

A totally different aspect of memories is, that I believe it is, what ties us to people. Because if we could not remember, we would never get close to anyone. We would never learn to value or fear the people in our lives. And this is important to keep in mind, when we want to interact with people. When we wish to get close to someone. Sharing memories is probably one of the strongest bonds there is. And the friendships that can grow from those bonds is precious beyond words.

Forgetting someone we share a lot of emotional memories with… I do not think it is possible. We come across people in our lives, that we may wish to forget. But chances are we will never get them out of our heads. Because we do not simply forget memories. We can do the same as with anything: Reprogram. But we will never really forget. And I wish I could say I am okay with that. And some day I think I will be. Everyone who we across will teach us something. And we do not want to forget those lessons. The pain will fade with time. But the memory will stay. We will remember. And thinking about it is beautiful, because sharing memories with someone we may not engrave our names in their heart (huh this line is cheesy) but we will engrave the lesson that we taught them in their brain. Which is worth so much more.

All in all: we cannot forget our mistakes. We cannot forget people. But we can choose our future. We can choose to learn from the past. And to not make the same mistakes again. And this way even when we cannot get rid of the painful memories, we grow. We learn to understand the world and ourselves. And those memories will keep the lessons alive. This is forgetting is not even that desirable. We want the pain to fade. I get it. I really do. And it will fade. But there is no need for us to fight the memories. Fight our past selves. We just need to have the courage to accept who we were and who we are today. And then we can decide who we will be in the future.

Just another Darkness

Yesterday I was afraid. Today I dared. I am the only one guilty of this crime against me. But I am not mad at myself. I did not push the blade down. I just let it slide over my skin. Feel the tickle of the metal. My fingers are sweaty. I guess I am still afraid. It is fascinating how such a thin piece of metal can have such a visible effect on a human even if we don’t actively try to make a big impact. I do not know how much harm I would do if I got mad at myself and cut… if I felt unheard and felt like I needed to scream louder. Cut deeper. For now: these cuts… mere scratches are enough.

So much pain comes from such a tiny thing…

I am sliding back into addiction. Why? Because I am so afraid. So afraid that I suddenly just think: I gotta leave. And I walk out and into a bathroom until I feel able to return. Or I start crying in the middle of a lecture. Sometimes I see my chest vibrating with the beating of my heart. I shiver and sometimes my hands tremble.

I know I should be fighting the fear without hurting myself. I know I should just be handling the pressure. Study harder. Trying to distract myself. I should be talking back to the voice that says I could be cutting. But all I really say is that I do not want to be alone. And then again… I want to be alone. And I isolate myself because being around people does not make the fear go away. All it does is drag those people down along with me. Just… seeing that I’m everything but okay… it hurts them. And I still cannot talk. I wish I could.

I have been in therapy for two months now. Nothing changed. Absolutely nothing. Actually… when I started therapy I was better than I am now. I thought… I might learn how to prevent me slipping… but I didn’t. I did not even get started in finding a way. I have no idea what went wrong. I thought it would help. I think I will see another therapist. I am not ready to give up yet. Just another darkness that I need to survive… Another darkness that will leave its scars on my skin.

I am so sorry. This whole thing is such a mess… and I created it. I was fine before I was so incredibly stupid. And then I created this blog to share what would help me get better… and all I am doing is explaining why I hurt myself. And… how it feels.

“Touching the flames tonight.”

There is a girl on the train. Watching the rain fall outside the window. Her lips tickle. Not in a good way. The grey sky vanishes as the train enters the tunnel and stops. The girl gets up. Enters the labyrinth of the main station. Every single step of hers in synch with the beating of the music.

She enters a store. Does not care about the people around her. She cannot hear them. Her entire being is filled with nothing. Music in her ears. She finds the hygiene division of the store. Finds the section with the razors. One deep breath and she is on her way to the checkout. With one single item. Classic razor blades.

She spares a thought on how that must seem. A young student at 8am buying razor blades. Is it not obvious what they are for? She feels the power she has. Because she can just buy those blades. No one can stop her. Then. She feels nothing again. The blades fall into the depths of her bag. She will inspect them later. She will be touching the flames tonight. Fire. And Flesh. And Blood. If she was feeling something it would probably be fear.

Yes. That girl… it is me. And I should probably have bought chocolate instead. My one and only enemy is me. How will I forgive her who wouldn’t forgive? How shall I live in peace with the one who always wants to hurt herself? She is me. And I hate her. And I love her. I need her. I invite her to come. And she hurts me. And I am her. I hurt myself. If this was a book, I’d write “A single tear is running down her cheek.” But there is no tear. Just me. There is no other, evil me. No demon. There is just me.