 With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world...
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Jun. 8th, 2009 @ 10:30 pm 
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Tonight I baked chicken drumsticks, for foods purposes, in two attempts because the first time I took them out they came out underdone.
In other news, I talked to both Chas and Dean today. It turns out they'd read all the comments on a recent post, which I hadn't expected (to the extent that I thought about it, since I was answering comments while quite upset), and had gathered alarming hints about how I've been doing. Soooo, all my dedicated efforts to keep them from knowing anything about how I've been managing in the last week have come to naught, but on the bright side, we're all fine.
And since this means I am no longer carefully dodging the possibility of them finding out what's been happening, I can talk about it here.
My reasons for doing so are mixed - partly for my own benefit, since this is my own damn journal, partly for the informational benefit of people who care about me, partly because I know sometimes it will be surprisingly helpful to a stranger to know that other people deal with this kind of thing too.
I've been struggling to hold things together in the last week. All the strains that were there before the wedding are still around, only now my brother and my best friend are far away and out of reach. My dear friend Oliver has been helping, trying to take care of me, and housemate.Dave cares, but it's not the same, and I've been having trouble.
My psychologist has been taking the angle of reminding me that this is my great chance to work on being able to deal with things independently, without help, but it turns out I'm not entirely ready for that yet.
Oh, I'm better enough not to be totally dependent any more, but... Ideally, I think, even if I moved out and was living alone, say, I would still be in frequent contact, by e-mail/IM/phone/etc, with my family. (By which I mean my brother-out-law Chas and my sister-out-in-law/BFF Dean.) Feeling cut off and isolated is bad for me - my actual, real breakdowns while they've been gone have both taken place when (first time) everyone I tried to call wasn't answering, or (second time) I was feeling like I couldn't call on anyone at all.
First time I mostly held it together until Dave came home.
Second time I stabbed myself in the leg, then panicked at how much blood I was losing, and how fast, and had to call Oliver to take me to the hospital, where I got sutures and an extended interview with a psych nurse.
Since then - admittedly, all of "since yesterday" - I've been extremely resistant to self-harm impulses, if only because I've had this feeling like I couldn't afford to lose more blood. There was a lot yesterday. Like, "I didn't think it was possible to bleed this much without opening an artery". I know I'm a good bleeder (blood donation record four minutes twenty, bitches, and no, I don't have high blood pressure or any kind of clotting disorder, I just have robust veins and a strong-pumpin' heart), but that doesn't usually result in pools of blood taking seconds to form at my feet.
Thing is? I'm wondering if I'm done with that now.
Because I've always, before, been frustrated when I've cut, because I could never seem to get the cut to bleed more than an ooze without what felt like undue risk of serious damage. (I know this seems like irony. But I've never been out to maim myself.) Yesterday there was blood. There was a lot of blood. Spreading on the floor in dark dark pools, smearing red footsteps where I moved, running thick and fast down my calf. I had all the blood I could have been looking for, and it didn't make everything all right, it just made a mess and rapidly started to frighten me.
Linkin Park. I bleed it out digging deeper just to throw it away, just to throw it away, I bleed it out...
I've always had this feeling like everything would be okay if I could just get the blood to run.
The only thing that seems to have bled out with it is that. Blood won't help. The cut will hurt and the blood will be in sight, and I'll be distracted from my pain by hating myself for the weakness that cutting represents, but it won't make it all better.
I know I've been told this, many times, but I could never feel it.
But I have enough self-inflicted scars, and I've seen my life pooling on the floor, and I want to believe I can let this all go now. If two sutures is what I needed to be able to put this behind me, I'll take it. I want to be past this. I want to feel like I don't have to be afraid I'll lose myself, like I don't have to be terrified that depression is an illness that will kill me.Current Music: Cobra Starship - Guilty Pleasure Current Mood:  tired
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| From: | ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png) rainbow |
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| Date: |
June 8th, 2009 05:19 pm (UTC) |
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That sounds terrifying, and I am unsurprised that Dave is worried!
I hope that your new realisation will help you.
I am sending as many vibes and as much energy as you want for centeredness and for healing and for finding safer ways to let out anger and frustration and all the rest.
You are welcoem to PM me any time if you want me to ramble on about some of the alternatives things that have helped me, if you think it might help you.
Carys
<3 I am wishing you a speedy physical recovery, and I hope your heart/head can get to where you want/need them to be soon. I won't go into to much since this post is public, but I can relate and I want you to know if you'd like someone to talk to I'm here. I've got AIM and unlimited texting on my phone.
I was worried with the sutures but was afraid of violating your privacy or saying something triggering. I hope you have had a revelation and things will be better.
::hugs::
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| From: | luludi |
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June 9th, 2009 05:05 am (UTC) |
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You don't know me, but I am an online friend of orangeblossom. I wandered in here via her reading page, and just wanted to say hello. I've added you to my reading list, no pressure to add me back. Just didn't want you having to wonder who the heck I was ;)
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