Sorry to anyone besides me who actually reads my posts... this one is going to ramble.
Last night I took mom out to a movie and dinner. We had a really nice time and just chatted about life and the movie. It was nice. This morning I got up and she was still here which surprised me a bit because she and dad are leaving to go to L to spend Mother's Day with dad's parents. I have been exempted from pretty much any trips to L due to my recent revelation that [REDACTED]. (Was there a fucking line people stood in when I was little?) It also explains to them the hysteria and panic attacks I'd have whenever we traveled to see them.
For the record, I am sick to death of this childhood bullshit. Why can't I push a rewind button and then re-record with an idealised version of my life? I'd like that a LOT better than the miserable truth.
Lately I have been introspective against my will. But I have already learned the truth that the harder you push something down, the more explosively it comes back up.
Today mom found an old picture book written in German. It wasn't meant to be a colouring book but I had taken a red crayon to all of the drawings. But I only coloured over images with eyes. Suddenly, with a strange clarity I remembered why. I had this sick fear that the devil would come or bad things would happen to me if I didn't colour, with a RED crayon, over the eyes and bodies of everyone in the book. I also recall getting screamed at by dad for doing so since the book is actually an heirloom. But this reminded me of books we don't have anymore that I also defaced. At least one Barbie colouring book and 2 Sesame Street colouring books.
Mom says it's proof my bi-polar disorder was coming to the surface even as a child and I agree. I also agree that this behaviour went hand in hand with scribbling on the wall and blaming my sister, cutting my own eyelashes and feet and other self destructive behaviour that eventually led to SI in Jr. High. Now before you call me emo, Jr. High for me was back in 1992-93 and I was struggling with my weight, and mercilessly teased at school. The word "emo" didn't even exist and as for it's predecessor, "grunge?" I wasn't allowed to listen to rock and roll.
Anyhow, when things got too painful I used to sit on these highly lacquered, black benches we had around the school grounds. And seeing that this is the Central Valley, they were never in the shade. On a 95-99 degree day they were too hot to sit on. I'd sit down anyhow and tuck my hands under me, feeling the searing heat blister my palms. Later, I learned to do the same thing with boiling water when I washed the dishes. I'd look at my hands turning lobster red, my skin screaming at me to stop until the heat felt like chills.
I cut for the first time when I was 17. My sister and mom were fighting and the stress in the house was incredible. I took a serrated bread knife and dragged it over my arms until I could feel the stress alleviate. Cutting slowly overtook other forms of SI but I practiced it infrequently, usually when a panic attack was so severe I literally felt as though I was dying. The panic gripping my mind, threatening to pull the top of my head off. My throat closing so tight I couldn't breathe, swallow or speak. Tears coming to my eyes unbidden but my hands so crippled I could do nothing but stick them in my mouth and bite down, trying to keep the violent urges to cut the hysteria out of my body at bay.
I can't explain what an attack like this feels like. Imagine being able to think, but your body and mind have literally shut down so far all you can do is cry and shake your head. If someone asks "Do I need to call the hospital?" and you can shake your head but not speak a single word, the hysteria and panic gripping you tighter. Nervous energy compels you to cut, to hurt yourself, because you know you won't feel it now, but maybe it will shock your brain into thinking normally... This article really puts it in plainer words
http://www.coolnurse.com/self-injury.htm So if you are interested in learning more, please do.
Anyhow, two days ago I SI'd and I haven't for six months. I am pretty disappointed in myself only because I thought I was moving on past the need to do that. I found out I got a really crappy grade on my makeup test which I had been SURE was a sure thing. I later found out almost everyone in the class got 70% or lower which makes me feel a little better as most of us are in the same situation grade wise. Anyhow, I saw my teacher and found out I need a 47% on the Final, which is a 50 question multiple choice exam. Well, that's great except I did do poorly on the make-up which was a 34 question multiple choice. Granted, I ran out of time, guessed on the last 6 questions and UH... didn’t even see the back page so I missed 4 questions by not answering them but still. In the car I started figuring my odds but since I had been off of my mood stabiliser since Monday all I could think about was failing and my immanent death. By the time I got home I was thinking about what I would use to SI and decided a plastic butter knife would be nice because serrated knives tear wonderfully.
Yes. I was actually thinking that. Anyhow, I was also fighting with myself over this. I KNOW that it's bad, that it's wrong, that it hurts me and people around me. I also knew at the time that I couldn't breathe, think rationally or move. I ended up on the couch, staring at the ceiling, crying so silently my mom finally sat down next to me and prompted me to breathe. I was holding my breath for so long I didn't even realise I had essentially stopped breathing. Later when I "calmed" down a little I bit myself twice. Yes, this is SI. The last time I SI'd I had longer nails and I raked them down my face a few times and up my legs. GOD I LOOKED STUPID. Anyhow, biting didn't help at all and now I have huge purple green bruises on my left arm that hurt like the dickens. (does anyone actually use that phrase anymore?)
I eventually calmed down enough to take a Xanax which is an anti-anxiety medication. Then I realised I need to do several things this weekend. Study, do laundry and relax. Panicking will NOT help me pass my Final. As it stands, I also realise this: I can still walk in graduation and get my diploma later IF AND ONLY IF I don't pass. Which I don't think is an option or a possibility.
Now on to the most random thing I have ever written in a journal, ever.
After I quit my job in Feb 2005, I had a LOT of free time on my hands. Even as I looked for work I also realised my mind was pretty much unraveling. I had joined Neopets June 19, 2004 when my sister said it was a fun game. I painted Kittie baby in May 2005 I think. Anyhow, that summer I went to group therapy and played Neopets. My Bi-polar was so bad that a good day was getting out of bed to play. A bad day was not getting out of bed at all.
It's in my nature to be a peace maker and to find an equilibrium with people who have issues with me. It's not natural for me to KNOW that people are angry with me and do nothing about it.
I wish for all of the unkind things I ever said about anyone that I was able to go back and un-say them. Since that isn't possible I know I have done my best to humble myself and apologise to people I know I hurt through words and actions. That being said.... there were a lot of things that hurt me too. I guess I have to let go of that because "it's just a game" But in the long run, I wonder if anyone will ever know it's a game that saved my life?
