Harm

I get that weird feeling sometimes, or more like an instinct of sorts. That I want to destroy things that I love, or things that others love. And then I ask myself, why the hell would I want to do that? It's a horrible feeling really. But I don't think it's rare. I think a lot of people have felt the same way, though I don't quite understand why. But I do, on some level. As when I before cut my face, to destroy something that I liked, my face. Like the only part of my body that I don't hate.

If you look really really close you can still see the scar, but it blends in with the scars from my acne. I hate that. I don't want it to blend in, I want it to stand out. I just didn't fucking cut deep enough. Afraid to do too much damage. Always when I cut I was afraid to press down. I hated myself for my lack of courage which led me to cut even more. Pathetic, isn't it?

And still I want to cut. I want it almost every day. When I look down on my scarred arms and it triggers me to create more scars. To fill in the blanks. Go deeper than ever, press down harder. But I'm always so afraid of messing things up, and mostly I'm afraid of nerve damage.

It's my hands, you see. I don't want to risk losing sensation or mobility in them, so when I did self harm, it was only superficial, like scratches almost. Though I hated it when other people said it was scratches. I used a fucking blade, not my finger nails. I felt bad, like I failed and didn't cut deep enough for it to count.

I know that is just sad, but it's the truth. It's not uncommon for self harmers to compare wounds/scars and it can become a dangerous competition. To diminish my self harm wounds made me want to harm myself even more. I didn't do it right, I couldn't do it right, so I just did more instead. Maybe I could "win" with the most scars instead of the biggest?

I know it's wrong of me to think that way, and I'm not saying I'm proud of it. But that has been and is on my mind. That I'm a failure to self harm as with much else. I never understood that the only failure was my eagerness in getting worse instead of better. How can I not see that scratches are way better than deep lacerations?

I'm gonna try to stay "clean" over the summer at least, but from then on I don't know. The cravings have been extra strong this last week, and I suppose I've come across more triggers as well. Everything from reading about it (though I avoid such websites) to seeing a gif of someone playing with a scalpel.

Okay, this entry is becoming very long now. What do I even want to say? That I'm fighting to not fall back again, and now I seriously start to wonder for how long I can abstain from it. I can't even remember how my body looked like without the scars. If or when I start again I'll probably hide it, ashamed to have given in for it again.

But love isn't fair

It's only two days left now, and the anxiety is holding a firm grip around my throat, suffocating me. It's the "Love is in the air" thing in world of warcraft now, and all the pink hearts popping up everywhere make me feel sick. Was it always like this? I don't remember.

This just struck me, what am I gonna do without the cigarettes this time? How can I endure this without the sweet smoke? Blood, alcohol, anxiolytic drugs, chocolate, blankets and warm showers, movies, more video gaming and whatever I can think of. Whatever I can think of...

I just got a phone call, and the person on the other end said they were calling from "Socialstyrelsen" and my heart missed a beat or two. I snapped at them and didn't know what I was feeling. But after they had explained who they were, I was like "oh... it's you" suddenly feeling utterly embarrassed and unnecessarily evil. Or something. It's just the LSS people, no worries at all.

I'm a bit jumpy and freaked allover today. Hardly know what I'm doing and I think I forgot to eat too. My head is spinning and I'm trying to calm down, but it's not easy. A thousand things run through it and I can't keep up. Maybe I shouldn't even try.

At first I thought this might not go so bad at all, considering I seem to take it better every year, but then this about the cigarettes. I'm in abstinence and quite a mess mentally. This... hopefully I don't go and do something stupid that I will regret after. It's just a memory, why do I let it kill me?

I miss my blood elf priest. Gonna go and do some pointless quests now. I know I don't write here that often nowadays, but trust me I do write, I just don't post it. Well, until now that is. The title, I just thought "love is in the air, but love isn't fair". No other reason, or whatever.

The fury within me

I can't deal with this. I just freaked so horribly because my computer decided to have an emergency shut down right when I was writing and playing WoW. Sure these simple note pad programs are handy and easy to use, but if it's lost somehow, it's lost forever. To be honest I don't really know what I lost, nor do I even care about it.

It's just that the way inanimate objects tend to live their own lives drives crazy. And I mean screaming, crying, hitting things, hitting myself, drinking, cutting, cursing kinda crazy. The sort of pure fury no one cant really understand unless you've experienced it yourself. And there is nothing more destructive than that. I somewhat managed to control myself this time though.

Yes, I both screamed and cried and also hit things, but I didn't touch the computer. I didn't know what to do with myself, almost tore off my eyebrow piercing even. It's like that extreme anger is a life force on its own, possessing my body, making me unable to control any of my muscles. It's like a directed spasm, stronger than a fucking orgasm even. It's that overwhelming, but I can't make anyone understand. I'm not me when I get that angry, I become something else.