healing gracie

Disclaimer: the content of this post may be very difficult to read. This post talks about self-injury and goes into some details that may be disturbing to readers.

Deep breath...

I am a cutter...I have been for the past few years. I believe I made reference to it in my last song of the week post. Even then, you have no idea how hard it is to say that. It is definitely something I don't tell others and that I really haven't told anyone. In fact, up until now it was really only my counselor who knew I was fighting this battle...this desire to hurt myself. I am probably crazy for putting this out there...this little tidbit of information which is soon going to turn into a lot of information (and probably too much information).

As of now I am on the road of recovering from self-harm. It has been a difficult journey and one filled with much grief, shame, and distress. Trying to fight the urge to hurt myself has not been easy, but I can say it is worth the fight.

Some may wonder: "Why would someone do something like that? Why would someone intentionally cause physical harm to their body?" We will see if I can explain the why, at least from my perspective--my own personal experience with it.

I have been self-harming for a few years now. I really don't know when I started...it just did. At first the self-harm I inflicted upon myself wasn't too serious. No, I resorted mostly to scratching myself and pulling my hair or my eyelashes. In fact, it wasn't until about the time I started counseling (about three years ago) that I began cutting myself. This was a pretty intense time in my life...I had just survived a crisis, hence I was starting counseling

---Just a note, I can say that this really in not easy for me to be writing this---

So, I had started cutting. I can somewhat remember the first time I cut myself. I was really upset, frustrated, and hurting...in despair. I was angry...at myself mostly. What I was feeling was so intense...I was shaking. It was overwhelming. I had found a pair of scissors and before I knew it I was cutting my arm. All of a sudden there was this feeling of the pressure being lessened...the intensity of what I was feeling subsided...and it was under my control. It was then that I began to use cutting to cope with intense emotions.

When I would cut I would bleed...and I would make sure of that. Over time the cutting became worse. I would cut deeper and cut multiple times in one episode. It got to the point that I would cut at least once every week. There were some weeks where there wasn't a day that I didn't cut. I had become very dependent on it...I hate to admit that.

You still may be wondering: "But why would she cut herself?" There are several reasons why I would cut and how it would "help" me. The truth is, as disturbing as it is, it worked. It provided a sense of relief and control for me. Cutting was a way for me to distract myself from what I was feeling. Feelings were hard for me to identify with and to deal with. I couldn't handle them. I was afraid to feel...in fact, I was terrified. The feelings were so overwhelming to me that I was afraid that I would lose control. Cutting was my way of keeping control of the pain.

Cutting worked quickly. As soon as I put the blade to my skin, felt it press in, a sense of relief poured over me. All the pressure was released and I felt better...for a short time that is. It would hurt, of course, but that was the point. That was what I would hope for. For me, it was easier to deal with the physical pain rather than the emotional. It was easier for me to understand and identify with the physical pain. I would cut to my arm and think: "That's where the pain is. That is why I am hurting. It's not the overwhelming despair that has no tangible form. No, it's that cut on my arm. That I can see. That is what's causing the pain." Then the pain goes away, or so I thought.

As I said, this coping mechanism worked. However, there is an obvious negative side to this as well. I would often cut at night. So, in the morning when I woke up I would see the marks on my arm...the remnants of my self-destructive behavior. I would feel horrible. I felt sick, then shocked. Then the shame would sink in and then I would be mad at myself. "Why did I hurt myself, again?" I would ask myself. Because it provided a temporary relief...but really it was causing more harm than good. In reality, I was adding to the pain I was already feeling, making it even more unbearable. It became a cycle that fed off itself and became more intense over time. The pressure and intensity would build...I would release it through cutting (which is unhealthy)...I would feel horrible, which adds to the negative I was already feeling...more pressure builds, the need arises again to release it.

Eventually, I was able to recognize this very destructive pattern and began to take steps (almost unwillingly at first) to change it.

I am going to have to stop there for now. This is a very difficult subject for me to talk about and it's about all I can handle at this point. I will post more later about the steps I took to overcome this challenge and where I am today.