September 16, 2005
Darkness Rising
When did everything fall apart? I wonder when everything got so crazy and how I got so neurotically fucked up. Wonder when I lost sight of the goal in the first place. There's no goal anymore. No specific weight. No specific number on the scale. Nothing is good enough anymore.
I'm having a tough time lately. Can't deal with my own head or my own life. Why? I don't know. I shouldn't be this way. I should be able to handle this. I have so much to live for, so much going for me. And yet, each day I just keep throwing a little more of it away. And for what reason? I wish I knew. I wish I knew where I was headed and why. I wish I knew the reason behind all of this, and the reason I can't give it up, regardless of the fact that there really is a part of me that does want to let go of everything.
I cut today. Again. It's been an everyday occurrance for almost the last week. I just get the idea in my head, and I do it. It's not like I do it the very moment the thought enters... sometimes I can hold off for awhile. Distract myself. Not today.
I've been going to Judy's office during the day when I'm not in class, and it's helped. I don't seem to think so much. The thoughts slow down for a bit. Monday was tough, but I didn't cut while I was there. Couldn't bring myself to do it. I spent most of my time on Wednesday trying to keep focused on studying, but getting distracted by my own head. I was simultaneously fighting the need to cut, with the thought of not doing it. I lost.
I don't know-- the last several weeks have gotten harder and harder. I don't know why, or how to explain it. Pete asks me what he can do to help. If I knew-- I would have told him already. If I knew why I do what I do, or what causes it-- I'd tell him. Or Judy for that matter. But I don't know, and I don't really understand it. There are times I cut when I know exactly why I did it. Like today.
I was supposed to go to Judy's after class. Thoughts of cutting had been in my head since Thursday, and I hadn't yet given in. Being at Judy's is one of my 'safe' places, and I knew I'd at least have 3 or 4 hours safe from myself. Change of plans. I got there, but Judy had gotten a call that someone else had a personal emergency or something and she wasn't home. So, I left. My first and immediate thought was cutting. The blades were in my backpack. The bandaids too. Got on the highway. Pulled out the blade. Cut. Numerous times. Watched it bleed for a moment and instantly felt calm. Covered it with a band-aid, adjusted my watch over it.
Haven't eaten since half a fat free, sugar free yogurt yesterday (Thursday) about 10 a.m. (It's now 2:12 a.m. Saturday morning). 80 cals. Mad at myself for cutting over something so stupid. Big deal. So Judy wasn't there. Someone else needed her more, and who I am to get upset about that? The only one I should be upset with is myself for being so.... so needy... in the first place. I'm not supposed to need things. To want things. It's against the rules. Why? Just because.
So-- I guess the cutting was partly in order to deal with the sudden change of plans. Partly to deal with.... disappointment (????). I think the only way I avoided cutting on Thursday was knowing I'd be in a safe place on Friday, and told myself it would all be ok if I could just make it until then. And when that was just sorta taken away-- even if temporarily, and unintentionally-- I wasn't sure what to do. So, handled it the only way I knew how.
Pete was working in the yard this evening and went to turn on the sprinkler to water the lawn. My car was in the driveway with the windows down, so he opened up the door to roll them up before he turned the water on. Saw the blades and the bandaids sitting on the front seat. Asked about it not long after. His asking about it only led to further anxiety and stress and a host of unexplainable feelings. Again, my only thought was cutting.
Pete says I'm out of control. Says I need to get a grip on this. I could tell, once again-- he was holding back tears. I HATE myself in those moments. Complete and total DISGUST for being me, and for hurting Pete in that way. I tell him Sorry. It's a redundant phrase. His only response anymore is "I know". As though my apology has no meaning anymore. No merit. As if my guilt-ridden utterance is nothing more than a waste of my breath. Probably is. So is most of what I have to say. That's why I don't say much of anything to anyone.
So-- in addition to feeling guilty for being disappointed that Judy wasn't home when I got there, and guilt for cutting over it, I also felt guilty about hurting Pete by something I do to hurt MYSELF. So- I didn't eat today. Nothing. Coffee and Diet Mt. Dew. Nothing more. Maybe I'll just keep this up for awhile. Just to see how strong I really am. Just to see how far I can go.
Posted by Wendy on September 16, 2005 11:49 PM