Scratch.

I scratched my arm with a safety pin last week. I first rubbed a rock pendant across my arm, but it made my arm all bumpy and swollen so I stopped doing that. The safety pin was a good choice for my first time “cutting.” I kept scratching my forearm back and forth in one small area. I broke skin but didn’t bleed. It hurt so bad to harm my body like that. I felt like throwing up because I generally love myself. But I was in so much pain I just knew that’s what I had to try. I kinda loved the feeling of scratching.  It stung. It distracted me from my emotional pain that led me to scratching. I repeatedly scratched and my arm was pretty red. I didn’t have to scratch much to get the job done. But I know I’ll have to do more and more over time to feel good. I’ve read it releases endorphins.

I later promised my boyfriend I’d never do it again as long as nothing bad like that happened again. It hurt him that I did something so bad. He told me I should promise I would never do it again no matter what. I kinda agreed. But you know what, he told me he couldn’t stay and talk because he had homework. I completely understand that. So I said goodnight to him, knowing I’d try to cut myself for the first time. I couldn’t tell him then because of course he’d blow off homework and help me. It would be manipulative of me if I told him. But later he told me to ask for help and I said I would.

We have been doing amazing since. It’s been almost two weeks (I’m probably exaggerating). I’ve been much calmer. I’m not so mean. And we’ve both been more positive. But.  Tonight. I was upset. He wanted to take shrooms for the second day in a row. And things went downhill for us. He mentioned how he would leave me if this continued but would make sure we got back together eventually. That broke my heart. I thought I could never do anything to make him leave. He knows once he leaves I’d want to be done with the relationship forever. I would be too stubborn to fix it.

I wanted to scratch myself. I told him that and he said I’m manipulative and controlling and mean and hurtful and selfish. I ended up telling him it’s ok to take shrooms and do what he wants, and I promised I wouldn’t cut myself. He cried and I felt better. I felt close to him.
He was so mean to me. Made me feel so unsafe. He raised his voice at me. Forced me to tell him my fears and then he was cool with saying goodnight. I got sad again. He’s at home feeling better and happy on shrooms. And I’m here hating myself. I’m disgusting. I want to hurt myself. I feel like I deserve it. I feel like I’ll be his doormat because I love him so much. I know I could never leave him. I won’t even hang up a phone call with him once goodbyes are said. I stay on the line until he hangs up sometimes. I never want to say bye. I usually cry after. I feel broken. Like I’m deeply flawed. And unfixable. I might be a soul that belongs with God early on. I don’t deserve life. I’ve wasted mine. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I don’t understand why cutting is all I want to do when I’m in so much pain. I know it hurts my boyfriend. But what about the emotional pain I’m in? That’s worse than cutting. I get how cutting fucks you up in long term. But short term it’s great. I need something that’ll keep me alive for the time being. I need so much help and I feel like I’ll never get it. Even though I’m not, I feel alone and disgusting.