Tag Archives: self-harm

Side effects to cutting.

I’ve been a cutter since I was 17 years old. At that time, I would cut no less than three times a day, every day. I carried a safety pin around and did it in public restrooms. You’d be surprised how much damage something so small can do.

As with any cutter, it progressed a few years back to knives. Steak knifes, with serated edges, because that’s always what I seemed to pick up. I have 2 scars from the last two incidents with them, and it’s the last episode that prompts me to write this.

I cut my arm, badly. I didn’t even realize how bad it was until several minutes and much blood later. It finally stopped and eventually, even though it was ugly to look at, started to attempt to heal.

A few weeks afterwards, I noticed my right breast was inflammed. I immediately went to the doctor, scared of Inflammatory Breast Disease. We discovered it was strangely a case of mastitis…strange because I haven’t ever had children, when it’s more common. Of course you can get it when you don’t have children, but it’s much more rare…and as an added “bonus” it puts you at an 11% chance of “regular” breast cancer for the next year. (Which I have been being routinely checked for since it happened, and I’m almost in the clear.) We chalked it up to me wearing too tight of sports bra. But I was treated for MRSA, in case. He looked at my arm (which still was ugly, and open, after that time.) and told me that when you cut yourself, bacteria can travel. It could have landed there, causing the irritation in my breast. Because I caught it mere HOURS into it turning red (OCD can save your life!) it never hurt, or got much worse. I was put on the antibiotics, and routinely saw the doctor in intervals to make sure nothing was amiss.

The point of the story that I never really knew, even 14 years later, is that when you cut, you can cause infection…in places other than where you cut. Every now and then I would get my cuts inflammed or even infected, but I never thought of it traveling somewhere else in the body. I haven’t cut since that day in the doctor. That seriously scared the living hell out of me.

That isn’t to say I’m cured or that I’ll never do it again. I’m sure I will. It’s ‘in my blood’ (for a horrible pun). But I know to take extra care and precautions in the clean up process. Hopefully I won’t ever do it again. Once I abstained for a few YEARS. But it came back. But for all you cutters out there, read this and keep this in the back of your mind, that something very serious can happen from cutting.

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I am so fucking ANGRY and no one I can talk to

Considering I have a whopping two friends and I just left one of theirs house so they can sleep, I dont really have anyone to talk to and Im NOT in a very good mindset right now. Im seriously just about done with life and I dont know what the hell can fix this right now.

All this shit is just getting to be too much. The house is so fucking gross I cant even handle it. Were broke. BEYOND broke. I owe doctors, the dog had to skip a vet visit, we have no food, my one tire BLEW UP and the other is leaking, my husband talks to me like SHIT on a daily basis, all day long. I cant even call him because by the end of the phone call hes SCREAMING at me for god knows what this time. The only people I even talk to are my mother, his mother, my sister in law, one friend, and my husband. My husband yells at me and talks to me like Im shit and has taking to in the past few days telling me how useless I am. My mom…well our relationship is strange and talking to her half the time makes things worse. I feel like everyones second (or worse) choice. I feel like everyone just thinks that because I dont work that I obviously dont have a life and I just should drop shit and do whatever they need/want because its good for them. I have NO energy. None. And while my husband seems to think that throwing my shitty sleep schedule in my face is the answer, I cant HELP my sleep schedule! Fibro makes you tired. Stupid sleep schedules make you tired. Depression makes you tired. Being fat makes you tired. Being out of shape makes you tired. Ive been bleeding for almost a straight month. I just CANT DO IT. ANY OF IT. All I want is some HELP. I dont need people to “do it all for me” or whatever the consesus is this week. I JUST WANT SOME FUCKING HELP. NO ONE FUCKING UNDERSTANDS. Im just so worn out. The stupidest shit is impossible. And I feel bad because of it. I already feel useless. I already feel like a waste of fucking space and that there is no point in my existance. But to be told it on a daily basis, THAT REALLY HELPS!

My sense of smell is ridiculous. I can smell stuff no one can. And all I can smell right now is dog pee. Because the bathroom needs to be mopped. But my OCD is so fucking bad I cant mop it. Its getting to an untolerable point. I cant touch almost anything any more. Im scared to eat almost anything because I think Im going to get sick. And everything in here that needs to be done is stuff I cant fucking DO. IM SORRY IM SUCH A FAILURE. IM SORRY I CANT WORK. IM SORRY THAT IM USELESS. IM SORRY ABOUT EVERYTHING. I hate myself ENOUGH. Do you REALLY have to make me hate myself even more??? I dont think I CAN!

Ever since the scare with the breast cancer issue, I feel horrible for even THINKING about the fact I dont want to be here any more. To be so careless with the life Ive been given. But its just TOO MUCH. I dont want to…die. I just dont want to live. I dont want to….be here anymore. I just want to…. I dont even know. Right now all I want to do is just cut and cut and cut until I hit something. Bleed my fucking life all over the floor. But then my OCD would kick in and I cant clean it up. Theres nothing I want to do more right now. I cant drink it away, alcohol does nothing for me. I dont need drugs or pills or anything to not feel. I want to feel I want to feel what a fucking failure I am and what a fucking fuck up I am and I just want to claw and tear and just bleed all over. Im sitting here typing this just so I dont get up and do it. But I cant even do that right. The last times Ive done it Ive been ridiculed and called names and been put down and told I was stupid and everything else, screamed at me and called me names and laughed at me and told me they would commit me because Im a stupid child. Physically did things in the name of what I dont even know. This is the “help” I get. This is the “support” I get. If you know someone who self harms let me tell you from someone who has been there, telling them how stupid and worthless they are while they are doing it and threatening them and laughing at them isnt going to make them stop. Its going to make the situation ten times worse. Its going to make them realize that that person(s) think THE VERY SAME THING THEY ALREADY THINK and its going to REINFORCE that we are USELESS AND POINTLESS AND WHY DONT WE JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY ANYWAY????

What kind of life is it to not want to live, not want to die. I just want to go somewhere far far far fucking away and just be left alone. I dont need people. I dont need shit. All Ive ever been is a fucking burden. First I was a burden on my mom who had to raise me alone. Then I was a burden on my father who had to pay child support. Now Im  a burdern on my husband who has to “DO EVERYTHING” because he JUST DOESNT UNDERSTAND and it doesnt help when there is other people making close minded comments to him making it “ok” to make me feel the way I feel. Thats all Ive ever been, its all Ill ever be. I came into this life a burden, and fuck, Ill leave it that way too. Ill be some body that they have to pay to get rid of, and then theyll have to come up with a way to pay off all my debts as well. Well, if I was to have a tombstone, which I wont because theyre too expensive, it would say HERE LIES THE BURDEN. ITS FINALLY LIFTED. REJOICE.

Addiction and death and life and coping

So last night while on Tumblr, it broke that the guy from Glee died.

He was a month younger than me.

And hes dead.

No doubt there are SO many people out there with the idea that he somehow “earned” it. Mr. Hollywood, threw it away for drugs. (Assuming the rumors of the cause are true…) Do people think that by making it to Hollywood you somehow are untouchable from lifes downfalls? That because they make money and people like them, they are really any different from you or I?

Some people may think, why all this fuss about an actor? Some guy from some TV show. There are children dying of diseases they never asked for! There are people like military, and police, and firemen that go to work everyday knowing it may be their last! WHY the fuss over just some actor?

Today, more than ever, people rely on things like TV or music to get by. They connect with characters, or lyrics, or fictional characters. Maybe alot of people identified with him, both fictionally, and in “real life”. More and more people today are dying due to drugs. More people go to rehab. Alot of the people that come out of rehab last a day…a week…a month…a year. But eventually, sadly, there will be a triggering event at some point down the line.  Addiction is real. I’m not even just talking about drug addiction. I’m talking addiction in general. What other kinds of addiction are there? Food. Cutting. Weight maintanence. Spending. Sex. Alcohol. Some people have addictive personalities. I am one of those people.

Maybe its because I have OCD. But in my life, I have become “addicted” to many, many things. Some of which very well could have killed me:

  • Anorexia: I reached 76 lbs.
  • Cutting: I got up to three times DAILY
  • Spending: (you dont even want me to go there, but I have about 30k in credit card debt.)
  • World Of Warcraft: 12 hour stretches, daily. People have died from less.
  • Speeding in my car: 30+ over the limit (caught) twice.
  • Pop: the acid from it began to burn a whole through my lip.
  • Eating: after anorexia, I began to OVEReat. (Into obesity.)
  • Bingo: seven days a week, a few hundred dollars per week. (Gambling addiction.)

Any one of those things could end me. Starvation. Bleed out. Homelessness. Exhaustion. Reckless behavior. Binge eating.

Do any of them disappear? No. An addict is an addict. We deal daily. Sometimes we will go a week. A month. YEARS. Before some kind of a relapse. I’ve relapsed on every single topic.

Maybe there is all this attention to a person not because of his “celebrity” but because so many of us UNDERSTAND. We ALL have vices. Some more dangerous than others. Some better maintained than others. But we all know each other. We all see what each other goes through. Are you any better to look down your nose at a drug overdose while you puff on your cigarette and have your beer, while you are betting at the race track? No one is a saint. We all have demons, and we all fight those demons daily. Next time a celebrity, or a person you don’t know, or someone close to you has a “set back”…rememeber they are human. We all fail. We need people to understand. We need the support.

To those before me and those after me who fail and succomb to their demons, you are not alone, you are not weak, you are not any less. We are all dead in the end, we all die sometime. Don’t judge people for how they exit.

2-2-13 Confession to another blogger

I came across a blog about a person who deals with the reality of being a recovering cutter. I have never met this person, I have never read this persons blog before. But I felt compelled to share this with her, and now I want to share it with MY readers as well:

“This is probably going to be a long response. I hope you find it helpful/comforting.

I started cutting 15 years ago. I was an anorexic at the time (and by anorexic, I weighed 76 lbs), and a control freak of epic proportions. I like the way you say it can be about control. While I never really realised it, it could very well be part of my controlling tendencies.
I agree with the “slap to reality.” as well.

As horrified as some of your readers might be, this one might even take it further. Here’s part of a confessional of mine:

I used to cut three times a day, minimum. I carried a kit with me. Every day. I was so numb in my feelings, and overmedicated from all the psychotropic drugs they were putting me on, that in order for me to “feel” I had to “see” it. The blood was a face too the pain. The blood made it real. The song “Iris” for me sums it up “When everything feels like the movies, and you bleed just to know you’re alive.” Thats it. I felt so dead, that I needed that reminder to know that I was alive.

I hope this…helps some how. I don’t know why it would. But I felt the need to tell you this.”

Cutting is not new. It has become…popular in the past five or so years. Hell, log onto Tumblr, and youll see PICTURES of it. (Don’t get me started on that, its a post for another day.) When I started, people didn’t talk about it. They sure as HELL didn’t post pictures about it. And you were ALONE. If you have read my posts at all, you will notice I am about putting myself out there to show people that THEY ARE NOT ALONE. If I had had someone be there for me then, maybe it wouldn’t have gotten to the point it did.

I still do it. Its like any other addiction. Any other drug. Except there isn’t really a huge AA type support base. There is a high. Then there is the afterward. Its something you face everyday. Do I do it three times a day? No. I’ve only done it a handful of times a year the past few years. While I do it less, it has become more violent, with much worse objects of destruction.

If you are struggling with self harm, recovering, or thinking of beginning, you can email me. You dont have to tell me your name. But let me help you.

caymarie@ymail.com

1-27-13 When everythings made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.

Iris-Live

When I’m listening to Pandora, this live version of Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls comes on and I’m always reminded how seeing and hearing the song live is practically a religious experience.

At the end of 2011, on the last day of their tour, I had been up 30 hours when I decided I wanted to go to the concert. I had been listening to Boyce Avenue for sometime, and saw that they had Alex Goot as a pre-act. (Also Green River Ordinance, which at the time I didn’t know I had heard of.) The whole show was completely amazing, as expected. It was in Ann Arbor, MI, a small venue. We took this with a cell phone. My dumb husband realized the battery was going to die and missed the very end, the best part, after the crescendo. At least I managed to get this.

For anyone who has ever had depression, or have self harmed, this song is… a bible. I can’t really put into words how well it describes my feelings. I truly believe this will be a song long remembered, especially by my generation.

And I’d give up forever to touch you
‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be
And I don’t want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
When sooner or later it’s over
I just don’t want to miss you tonight

And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you’d bleed just to know you’re alive

And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

1-4-13 Addiction

Recovery. Remission. “That thing that used to control me that I’m supposed to not talk about or think about anymore.” 

What I want to know from people who have “battled and “won”” addictions, have you really ever won? How does one successfully overcome true addiction? It’s always there. It never goes away. It always rears its head at the worst possible time. Those that are strong enough to not give in? How exactly does that happen? Was it true addiction to begin with? If you can talk away? If you can get “better”? 

I’m sure at that sentence I just pissed off all you “recoverists”. 

I just don’t get it. I mean. It’s addiction. It’s there. How do you not give in? And if you don’t give in today, tomorrow, this time, that time, next time, at SOME time you will. So I fight it off today. And maybe it goes away; for a week, a month, a year. But it always comes back. Sometimes it’s there, and in your face, and in your brain, and in your thoughts, and its THERE THERE THERE and what then? How strong can you really be, forever? 

Why alcoholics end up back on the bottle time and time again?

Why drug addicts go to rehab and then five years later end up ODing?

Why gambling addicts “get help” and end up homeless when they gamble away their home?

Why I’m sitting here starving because I have almost no food in the house, and all I can think is, “Good. There shouldn’t be food. So you feel sick now. You know after a few more hours it’ll go away. Who cares if you eat? Get a jumpstart on that shit. You used to not eat for days. Fucking sissy. How are you even hungry already? Like you need to eat anyway. Look at you. So you lost the weight, you got down. Then look, thyroid came back again and BOOM youre the fattest youve ever been! Congratulations! You deserve it really. I mean, this IS the highest number! Hell, lets make it higher! Fuck, just sit here, eat it all. After all, whats the point right? No, you remember this. Get it to the point where the sight of food is disgusting. The scent is horrendous. Get it to where you used to be. It’d save money, right? Less shit in this house.”

And the worst part is that one up there isn’t even honestly the problem I care about. 

Because, lets be honest: I’ll cave. Im too fucking fat at this point that if I dont eat Ill just cave. THAT addiction won’t win. It USED to win. For 15 years it won. Being addicted to being able to say no to food. The fatass in me just outshines that guy now.

No, the other one that is always in the back of my mind. That controlled me for so long, so many years. That never really was honestly a “threat” because I knew all the ways to not do it to really be a problem. Well, until they took away everything and I had to find new ways and things. Once that happend, well, it made it easier, for sure. A little more dangerous, but isnt that the point? I sat for almost an hour today just thinking of ways to do it. I could. I still am sitting here even after sitting and breathing and thinking. Because I thought about it so long that now, even afterwards, I still want to. I miss it sometimes. It was my friend. Just like the other guy that went away and left me this fat disgusting mess of a person. They left me, just like everyone else. Hell, you can’t count on anyone these days, can you?

So how is it you strong people just stop, walk away? Was it ever really there for you to begin with? I mean, hell…quitting is something I’m GREAT at, ask anyone! I quit everything! Yet, can’t seem to shake these. If a great quitter can’t quit…

Can’t quit….or don’t want to? Is that what it boils down to? Can’t over won’t? A mixture of both? It must be nice for those people. 

Guess I’ll never know.