Reward For Hard Work

On Monday, it will be one month since my injury. It hasn't been easy and yesterday especially I wanted to because it was such a stressful day. People at work were all nasty and mean, I had a headache and was stressing out. I wanted to get into my car and light a match. I resisted, blared the radio and came home. If I can make it to Monday, then I can buy two new books in my favourite manga series, Fullmetal Alchemist.

I've been watching the anime and I have been enjoying the story again. Its funny how something so simple can make me calm.

Game System

I'm debating buying a video game system. I used to love the PlayStation One, but that was obviously a very long time ago. I bought a PS3 last year and returned it twice because I could not get it to log onto the internet, thus making it useless. Might be a good way to distract myself, maybe an Xbox360. I don't know. I'll look into it and see what I can find.

No Need For Excuses...

...When no one notices. I suppose this is a good thing. I managed to keep myself from screaming and freaking the hell out at work the other day. Of course to do so meant that I bit the palm of my hand, that plump part nearest the thumb. Now its all bruised and looks like I spilled ink from a toner cartridge. It only really hurts when I use my hand, which is all the time. I plan to do some yard work today, I could explain the bruise as a mishap with secateurs, hand shears.

Its getting harder and harder to live with my parents. I seem to keep doing everything wrong. I was blamed for leaving a mess on the kitchen stove, keep in mind that I hadn't personally cooked anything for several days and it wasn't me who left the bloody mess! Makes me wonder for how long this can go on. I'm beyond tired. I took a few sleeping pills last night and blissfully did not dream once and I slept all the way through the night.

This morning was a bit odd, there was a boom of some sort. Something sonic, it made my curtain move in a way unnatural of a breeze. I'll have to keep in mind to find out what it was.

God, this has become a ramble, hasn't it? Back to coffee and Inspector Lewis.

Just Tell Me

So tonight I made dinner of chicken fajitas with bell peppers and onions and a side of salad. It was a big hit, Dad had three servings. I'm glad he enjoyed it, though it would be nice if he actually said something once in a while. I make dinner rather often and he rarely tells me if he liked it, so I don't know if I need to change something or not bother cooking it again.

Of course where his damned pride is concerned, I'll not hear the end of it. For instance, Brutus was the house last week when I got home and it was quite a shock. I'm not terribly fond of him and view him as a liar and betrayer. My father seems to think he is perfectly kind and has changed. Not from what I saw! It was an argument the moment I walked into the door. Again Dad said nothing and I had no warning. I don't care that I forgot my cell at home, just having the courtesy of a text would have been appreciated and I wouldn't have been angry at Dad. He knows that I don't like my brother. At least let me know! Bit what happens the next day? I get in trouble for not being kind to a guest! GUEST?! More like an enemy invited into the gates and given plans to the inner citadel!

Brutus also stayed the night, not leaving until after I had gone to work that morning. I had to lock my door for the first time in almost two years. He's stolen from me before and I did not want a repeat. Dad didn't like that too much and I did not care. What I did care about was having a situation made very clear to me that I was no longer wanted in this house. It seems that since I can't acknowledge that Brutus is my brother and has changed, I am being disrespectful. I view it as self preservation. This entire thing is a big ass mess which left me feeling urgy for hours afterward. A feeling that I gave into. I cut and that makes me feel like a failure. I tried deep breathing and cross stitching and knitting as distractions. No luck.

I wish I could talk to my therapist, but I won't see her for another week. I wish my health insurance would kick in, then I could see her more often.

New Possibilities

So there has been talk around the house over the last few days that I could move out by this time next year. I'll have my vehicle paid off by then and will have a simpler time of things but not by much. I'm going to try and get money from the county for rent help and food stamps. If things go according to the simple plan, I will be living not far from here and in a place of my own.

One can only hope.

S.I.A.D -- Not a Holiday

Self Injury Awareness Day, yet another has come and I haven't done the ribbon idea. I've been wanting to take orange ribbons and tie them all over town and have them say SIAD on them. I forget every year. I think though that today I will track down my orange bracelet. I'm sure I have one floating round someplace.

The point of today is to wear orange and start discussions on self harm, an idea that scares the hell out of me. Self harm is scary anyway, the hiding, always hiding! I'm glad though that there is one day devoted to self injury awareness. Not enough people know the truths about self harm. To many we come off as sick and twisted people who need to be very well medicated. Not the case. We're survivors, like anyone else. We aren't monsters... not by a long shot, but people who need compassion.

Rough Afternoon

I got to work today and had a rough go of it. My hands were shaky and I was really edgy. I'm not sure if I can all it manic, but it was close. As soon as the lines calmed, I was still pacing the floors and moving, shaking my hands to rid them of the shakes. I didn't notice at the time, but I see that I have a few nail marks in the back of my hand. Minor dissociation, I suppose, which scares the hell out of me.

I know I should tell Dr. B about that, but I really am afraid of being locked in a psych ward. I can't even have my socks on in bed because I feel like I'm tired up, so really being locked up would not be the best course. She has reassured me time and again that she will not send me into a hospital unless I am very much a danger to myself and she would have no choice then. That always makes me curious, the phrase "danger to myself". I injure myself to take the pain away, or to feel something real, tangible. Doesn't that say I am a danger to myself, or does it mean suicidal? If danger to self equals suicidal then I'll never be in a hospital because I am never suicidal. Even if I was, I'm not sure I'd tell Doc about it. There are still many things that I don't tell her, but I have opened more in these latest sessions then I did at the start.

I feel more free to discuss my self harm. I still think that she is disgusted by certain aspects, though she never says so. She asked me, "What do you think I'm thinking when you mention self harm?"
"I think you're disgusted, most people would be."
She looked sad and said that she was sad that I thought that way. "I'm sorry that you hurt yourself and I wish you wouldn't, but then that's why I'm here. To help you."

God... I feel so ugly and dirty, so horrid. I'm not attractive, not really. I'm chubby and lazy, which means that I never seem to stick to a fitness schedule. I need to eat better, no more junk. I need to start walking again. I'm gaining a few pounds and I hate it. I hate being fat!