I still don’t know if I can believe what happened this evening. It’s going to make me reevaluate my core beliefs. It seems so silly to say, so basic to write. This is the hardest thing for me to even think into existence.
I matter to this world. I am worthy of loving myself and of being loved.
Last night I cut myself again. I hadn’t in months. I had blades and scissors all around me. After going through all the art boxes from my storage unit I found a bunch of straight edges. I let them sit in my room for over a week. Oh yeah, I’ll get rid of them I thought. No big deal. But it was a big deal and I knew it. I wasn’t fooling myself or anyone else. I said I’d throw them out or give them to a friend.
Two things happened last night before I did anything positive with the blades. I decided to self sabotage and my emotions got to a level I thought I couldn’t handle. I have a pattern of self sabotaging after about a month of recovery. I’m not worthy of getting better, I’ve always thought. Also, my little brother went back up to school, so the focus was back on me. Not in a good way either. I needed to do this, go do that. Why can’t you be like blank? I felt I couldn’t take it. So rather than talking to my parents on how I felt they were treating me, or reaching out to a friend, I cut. Cutting feels so good. It’s almost orgasmic. A wave of endorphins wash over me. Everything is alright.
Then, reality hits. Consequences fall. I had to tell my therapist today and be ready for what could happen. I could get kicked out of the program. Luckily I didn’t get kicked out. I haven’t heard what my doctor is going to say to me tomorrow, though.
This evening I went to my friend’s house and gave her all my scissors and blades. I’m not going to lie and say I now feel so free because that would be a lie. My heart does feel love though. I texted this friend this afternoon and didn’t get a response for several hours. I figured she didn’t want to get involved. In actuality, she had a really busy day at work and hadn’t had time to look at her phone. Even though her husband wanted to spend the evening with her, she opened up her home to me. I went over and gave her the blades to dispose of. We talked for an hour, catching up on last week and getting deep and talking about why I cut.
Before I left she looked me straight on and told me that I matter and that I am worthy of love. I’ve heard this from therapists before but never from someone with such raw emotions. I thank God for this friendship.