Tag Archives: self-harm

Looking Back On My New Year’s Eve, Stupid Decisions & Stability.

The art of self-sabotage.

Just an indulgent repeat of my New Year’s Eve night, these thoughts are getting tedious, drinking is definitely not my friend. Trying to make these experiences ‘life lessons’. 

I had a few drinks; my head was swimming; swimming deep, trapped in the thoughts of the past. My present life is going extremely well, but it always seems that my past plays on my mind, slowly taking away from the joys of the present. I wonder if you can start to forget these thoughts, put them behind you, hoping for a fresh start. I know I’m stable, yet there are always these particular thoughts, amplified by a glass or two of wine. The alcohol brings the past back into clarity, who I use to be and what I use to do to myself. Binge drinker, depressed, self –harm, binge eating to combat depression, attachment issues, suicidal tendencies, un-empathetic, fitness junkie, food restriction and control freak. I think about all of this, I have time off from work and no university at the moment, I feel completely useless and unproductive, spending my days doing nothing. I know I’m stable, but this uselessness isn’t helping me. In the early hours of New Year’s day, as I slowly walked home through the worst parts of town, I knew I was out to hurt myself, I knew full well that it was dangerous to walk here. I stopped on the rickety bridge that was above the overpass, I didn’t move from that spot, wondering what my body would look like if it had fallen and hit the rocks below.

Drinking that night and being on medication wasn’t in my best interest, it was self-destructive. I type these thoughts so that I can put them behind me, hoping they won’t come to haunt me later. I pushed myself away from the bridge, the indulgent distraction led me into a drunken group of men that had been kicked out of a pub, I heard their catcalls, but I wasn’t bothered, I don’t think I cared. Their jeers continued for a while, I kept walking, not enticing them. In the morning the only thought I had about the night was the fact that my heels had allowed me to walk the 6km home without any bother. I didn’t regret the night, the adrenalin I got from my potentially dark walk home served to reinforce the negativity that I had been searching for. My friends said goodbye to me that night, asking where my cab was, telling them it was coming and that they should go back inside, I started my walk, thinking that I needed to clear my head, but there wasn’t anything to clear, just an angry voice inside that was egging me on just to see what would happen, there wasn’t any weighing up of risks, I just walked.

My Scarred Meat Suit: The Summer Collection

I’ve always thought of people’s bodies as meat suits. We treat and look at ourselves like we are the pre-packaged meat products you buy from the supermarket. Always judging the product to see if it’s the right weight, proportion, undamaged and aesthetically pleasing. Would you buy that cut of meat or make the most out of the one you have? Is it a nice lean cut with little-to-no fat? I was reminded of this when my new swimmers arrived today, it’s been extremely hot in Australia lately, easier to stay in swimmers all day. After putting them on I started to analyse myself like I would a piece a meat, my scars revealed even when wearing shorts, the beginnings of my tan highlighting the white lines making them more prominent. It’s too hot not to wear shorts at the moment; I start to pick at the hem of my shorts, in my mind hoping that they would magically grow a foot longer so that the lady at the supermarket would stop gawking at my leg.

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When I wear shorts to the gym, no one stops to stare; they see a healthy energetic person, my scars not determining how they judge me in that particular circumstance. My body consciousness is improving, yet I will always be that scarred pre-packaged meat suit, always getting judged and examined externally. In some instances you become the damaged package goods that nobody wants. Having the scars out in the open allows people to develop an opinion about what type of person you are, believing you to be  attention seeking, unstable, unhappy, suicidal, anti-social, a pain seeker, self-absorbed, violent/angry and impulsive.

Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror, caught up in the idea that the person staring back can’t be me. I look puzzled at my body, tormented by the idea that I inflicted so much pain on myself, both physically and mentally. I did this to myself, IT WAS ME. I need to take ownership for that. It’s about getting caught in the trappings of your mind, the deepest darkest place. I sometimes want to yell that I’m not ‘ill’ when people look at me strangely, I’ve always been a highly functional person, relationships, jobs and university study, I’ve always managed, even when depressed or hypomanic.

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It has become part of my personal wellness project to detoxify, cleanse and be ok with being imperfectly ‘perfect’. It shouldn’t be scary to be our imperfect selves, why should we avoid the label of ‘imperfection’ as if it’s the plague?! It’s useless to believe you can obtain ‘perfection’ or the current perception of perfection. The perception is wholly based on the current idealisations of the society, completely dependent on your milieu. My aim this week is to embrace my imperfections.

♪♪“Love your curves and all your edges. All your perfect imperfections. Give your all to me. I’ll give my all to you. You’re my end and my beginning. Even when I lose I’m winning”♪♪

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