(Bear with me on this post. I write in the present tense a lot even though the worst of my behaviour is in the past. I have also made the decision to repost it and now set it so that the public can read it. )
Now here's a shocking blog. You might not want to read it and I could fully understand that if you don't. It's a tough subject for those who have experience with it...it's even tougher on those who have done it and know the depth of feeling that it brings up.
It was never an attempt at suicide though I have wanted to many times.
It's always been a punishment inflicted on myself. A reminder or a reinforcement that I am no good and that everything I try ends in failure. It's a horrible cycle that's only recently been starting to break.
For the record I never cut and I don't burn myself.
Mostly I punch. And for a skinny guy, I punch hard. Picture that scene in Fight Club where the narrator smacks himself in the face. You get the idea.
Black and blue bruises are usually the outcome, with fresh bruises laid on top of the older ones. I don't really feel it when I do it but it hurts like a motherfucker later on. I aim for the legs because the legs are easy to cover up. On occasion I have punched the most solid object I could find. That includes walls, mirrors and metal containers. Popped a couple of knuckles doing that and cracked at least two fingers.
And it's not even the act itself that's the real issue. It's the rage that goes with it. The desire to hurt is, weirdly, the most hurtful thing. I never would have imagined it's possible to hate yourself with an intensity that borders on insanity.
The worst night - the night I had what I believe was a nervous breakdown - I didn't aim for the legs. I went for my face. I ended up with a line of dark bruises down my temple and my cheek that I couldn't hide. That was, in it's way, a good thing. When you can't hide anymore you have to front up.
That hate is the voice in the back of your mind that says "You deserve this because you won't stop failing". I saw it...I mean really saw it...when I found myself in front of the bathroom mirror clawing my face. Like something out of a horror movie, I didn't really recognise the man looking back at me. He looked like an animal thrashing against the bars of a cage.
