Making The Cut

Look at me deflecting with humor! 

My chest burned and ached. Not sure if it was anxiety, pain, or fear that I felt. I grabbed the tweezers and made a bee line to the bathroom. It's where I'd hide to scratch, or cut; where I know I'd be left alone. Sometimes I knew what I was doing, sometimes I did not. There were times I felt like I was looking at myself from above, watching and waiting to feel the scratching burn of skin. Always one to worry about what others would think, I made sure to scratch just enough to do the trick, but not enough to be noticeable. I'd rotate my scratch spots, and reopen old wounds and scars. "I cut myself shaving" I'd say if anyone noticed. Rarely did anyone notice. Not then, not now.

Self harm isn't a ploy, or a need for attention. When you hurt, and its emotional and systemic, you need a place to put that pain. You need a place to say "this, right here... It hurts and this is why." Cutting or scratching fills the void in so many ways.

Why? Why is this a thing? Trauma. Trauma is a bitch. It's also a loss of control. I learned this fairly early. I didn't know what it was, or why I did it. I didn't even know that others did it until I was in High School. I still hid it. No one knew. No one. I never told a counselor or therapist. Or my best friends, or family.

Why am I bringing this up now? I felt like I've lost control of my anxiety. The trigger at work, the trigger the other day with ED (ugh.. the Mother), and maybe because I hadn't done it in a while. But, I didn't. I regained control, even just a little bit. Even while my anxiety ebbed and waned, I didn't hop on that speeding train.

I know I have friends that did and do the same. Some are more open about it than others. I am one that hasn't been too open and honest about it. As I write this, I wonder what others will think. I worry about the judgement, the doubt. The wonder if I'm saying all this to garner sympathy. I guess I'm tired of not being honest with myself about it.  I'm tired of the self shame.

I'm tired, but thank you, and I thank myself for allowing me to be honest.