Phantoms

Just finished watching Phantom Of The Opera. I always pity the Phantom. No one bothers to get to love him because of a past that he had no real control over, because of an image. No one seems to look past the scars and into his heart, past his pain to the true beauty he has always carried within himself but was too blinded by pain to see.

I can empathize with him, I know how he feels because I feel the same. I feel like I am blocked from feeling true emotions of love because my past defines me. I don't feel I can be completely honest because it seems no one will look past the scars and past the pain to see the girl I'm hiding. Part of me wants to know why, why no one seems to care enough to see past the smile and the jokes, past the bravado and into the centre of myself. Why am I not worthy of such an expedition?

But Weight- There's More

I've been noticing patterns of late, especially in my eating habits. I seem almost fixated on not eating sugary things or drinking sodas, though the coffee is ever present. I keep having the same thought run through my mind, "I need to loose a few damned pounds." This has happened before, but not with the intensity of this current bout.

I have a health assessment coming up soon. Later in the year, there's a follow up assessment to see if I have improved with their recommendations. I fear that if I don't pass those assessments then I will loose a $35 credit off my health insurance. I was unaware that I was going to be forced, or better coerced, into changing how I am. I'm not fat, per se, but I could stand to loose a few pounds. My dress size is 20, but I'm 5' 11" tall, so that weight doesn't show like you'd think it would. I'm already in a poor mind set, the last thing I need is a stupid doctor telling me I'm going to die for being fat. I know I'm fat and up till very recently, I didn't care. Now I'm starting to care.

 I have also made a personal discovery of a positive nature (for once). My nightmares have been pretty bad of late, by that I mean they have been terrifying. I made a play list on my iPod that I have titled "Night Melody". I play this almost every night as I sleep. The calming music seems to keep me focused on dreams that aren't so horrific. I get to downgrade from Terror to simply Bad or Disturbing. Neither of the latter two categories are nearly as horrible as the first. I'm not sure what will happen if I stop playing the music. That's a fun tangent to go off on-- "What happens when the music stops?" A fun tangent but not one I want to crawl through tonight.

Be well and sleep pretty all...

Struggels of the Day

This morning, I thought I would treat myself to a danish. I finished it rather quickly, as I normally do with breakfast. My father decided to be an ass and ask me if I had bothered to taste that. I shot him the dirtiest glare I could and told him not to do that! He asked me what I was taking about.

"Dad, do not comment on how quickly I eat anything, its not funny. You've been doing it for years and all you've succeeded in is making me not want to eat, certainly not in front of you."

He didn't like that much and I don't care. I'm efficient in everything I do, including breakfast. I've been fighting against thoughts about controlling my eating  for some time. Using food like a reward or punishment. If I'm "good", I get to have supper. If I'm "bad", then I have to wait. Those kinds of thoughts have been weaseling their way into my head for some time off and on and I'm scared of what rabbit hole I'll fall down if I follow that particular white rabbit.

The whole scenario has been bugging me all through my day. When I got home tonight, I took a hot shower, very hot to burn away the bad. Then I went to my room to get dressed. I've cut tonight, not bad, but I don't want to take care of it either. I don't want to take care of myself tonight, I want to be left alone. I know Shyla will be either annoyed or worried when she hears I've not taken care of yet another half dozen cuts. Maybe I am crazy...

Therapy

Finally, I have the proper insurance coverage to go to therapy. Now its just me trying to find a therapist in my area that can deal with self injury. I think I may have found two that could work out all right. Both of them have worked with eating disorders, which are indeed a method of self injury, though not one I have employed to the point of needing help for it.

I'm a wrist banger, a cutter and a burner. All of which deal with control for me, so having a therapist that has worked with EDs before should be equipped to help someone like me. Or at least I hope so. There seems to be very few in my area that are capable of working with self injury, and I refuse to see a man. I have this aversion to being in a closed with a male for that long. I'm sure he'd frown on my bringing a knife into the session. Its bad enough I carry my tools with me, "just in case". I really shouldn't carry the knife too, which I do not use for self harm, in case you're wondering.

I think what has me bothered about the whole therapy thing is that I'll have some one who knows, really knows about self harm and can help me, but the question I ask myself is this: Am I ready to quit? I use self harm to control my emotions, what happens when that controler is gone? What do I do then? By that point I hope to have a better system of self in place. What I mean by that is I hope that I can be free from SI and live as a "normal" person who has a proper control over herself. I'm not seeking complete normalcy, that's unrealistic. I want to simply be me, without the SI. I've had it part of me for so long, I'm not sure what my world would be like without it.

Capitalism In America

I don't really know what to say today. I want to go on and on about things, but I just don't have the energy. I want to curl up in bed and stay there all day. Unfortunately, I have to work today, which means dressing in a hundred layers and being outside in the wind, rain, and snow for customers to buy Christmas trees. If only they knew what they were doing. All these so called Christians buying trees. Its a derivative of a pagan ritual in which evergreen branches were laid out as an offering to the various sun gods to remind him of the people so he would shine again and bring the warmth of spring and with it new growth. If only all these so called Christians knew they were worshiping any amount of varieties of a sun god... and not the saviour of humanity. Oh well, like all Americans, I'm in this gig for the money. These people want to inadvertantly worship a dead god or just buy a dead tree then fine, I'll sell it to them.

This is America after all. The land of complete waste. If people want to buy something already dead and put its carcass in their home, only to take it down again in a few weeks and have it sent to the wood chipper then that is fine with me. At twenty-five dollars a pop they are more then welcome to do whatever they wish, thank you and come again!I'm not judging, just saying. I don't have one of things in my house. In my room, I do have a lovely cactus though.

So much for not feeling up to writing today. Coffee must have kicked in.

Unhappy

I've been made full time at my job, which is both good and bad. I'm glad to get the extra hours and the insurance is better, but I don't like feeling like I have lost what little control I have. I'm neither thrilled nor upset about this. I'm bland and neutral.

My mom was disappointed when I wasn't more happy about the promotion. "I'm so sorry that you aren't a happy person," she said and was trying not to cry. I wrote her a note saying pretty much the following:

I don't know why I'm unhappy, though I can't really remember a time when I was completely happy without having this shadow of darkness hovering over every little thing I do. I don't know when it started or how, but I really noticed when I was about thirteen. I know it's not her fault and I refuse to lay blame on her. Whatever the hell is wrong with me, its all me. Something is broken in me somewhere. I want to be happy, but it never lasts.

I told her that I'm seriously thinking about going to therapy. Maybe some outside help is what I need. I've been fighting these feelings on my own for a very long time and look where it got me. Nothing but pain and fucked up addictions. Something has got to give.

Slay The Dragon

Today I go to court to make sure my half brother doesn't get the restraining order I put on  him dissolved. I have evidence that proves my case, I have a witness to back me up, and I am pissed off. He's saying that the order is preventing him from gaining assisted living, I know otherwise. I am sick and damned tired of him being in my life. I want him gone. Today, I will walk into court and slay that dragon with the sharp blade of truth. He's going to stop abusing me like this and I'll be the one that has to make him stop.

Which Is Worse?

I'm not sure which is worse, sleeping or waking, the night or the morning? At night, I don't want to sleep, despite how tired I am. In the morning, all I want to do is sleep. The night means I will sleep eventually and in so doing dream those nightmares that are haunting me. The dawn means the nightmares are finally over, but then I have to work. You can see the dilemma.

My nightmares of late are resembling something from a thriller movie. For instance, one of my latest dreams found me strung up in a warehouse, dangling from my wrists. Two men emerge from the shadows, one clearly in charge, the other a stooge. The leader is demanding me to answer his questions. In the dreams, I either cannot or will not answer, all depends on what he is asking. No matter which, he is always dissatisfied with my responses and orders the other man to do something. That "something" varies, but it always graphic and painful. I have been electrocuted, beaten, burned with cigarettes, branded with hot irons, and whipped. Never all in the same dream, but often paired together in some way. I wake in a cold sweat, thankful that it was all just a dream, though that word seems too soft for what has been going on in my head.

I cannot tell you what is making me think these things before I sleep. I've tried everything from watching cheerful cartoons to not reading or watching anything remotely graphic in nature to no avail. I am wondering what the flying hell is wrong with me. Does everyone dream like this? Or is it just me?

Longer Intro

I've been an injurer since the age of thirteen. At the time I thought hitting myself or banging my wrists was an acceptable way to vent anger and feelings of failure. Now I know it was the start of an emotional roller coaster laced with distrust of almost every soul I meet. As I got older, the methods I chose changed and became bolder. Now I cut or burn when the emotions are too much for me, especially the anger.

Right now, I'm in a particularly bad time. My half brother betrayed my family, after all the things we did for him and all the money we spent on him. I have a restraining order, but he is trying his damnedest to get it dissolved. The bastard thinks that he can't get Section 8 housing with a restraining order. He can, I called and checked. 

Lately, I've been cutting again, as it faster then burning and less risk of infection. I want to burn, just to take this edge off. I'm not sleeping well again, having night mares.It's like when I was eighteen and losing my mind. I'm seeing shadows move. I'm afraid I'll hear the music boxes again. They used to play in my head, several at once and all different tunes. To this day, I cannot stand the sound of them. My head is splitting, such a head ache today... Its from the lack of sleep, I'm sure.

 This year, when my insurance starts, I'm thinking about seeking therapy. The nightmares and the cutting and the burning are getting to be too much. I don't how that will work out and just thinking about it scares me. I've never been to a therapist or shrink of any kind for  self injury and the like. I know my internet support network will be so thrilled.

Short Intro

So this is going to be an attempt to be more open about my battles. I've done this once before, but that is on a forum and blog location that is frequented by other injurers. I'm wanting to show that there is recovery, and I don't mind bringing a few folks along for the ride. It's late tonight or I would bring up more. Right now I am just too tired to write long.