Mittwoch, Juni 29, 2005

Hated - beloved red tears

Some parts of this writings are from an other page with this name obove where I'm an user. The reasons are that this parts represent my feelings at this moment and besides I'm too lazy to write it again... ;) Though I cut the names from the other users and their writings because this part of the posts can only use some people.

Some words at the beginnig were:
"Well, again: What's the matter of this all?

This "compartment" should be for those who can't manage with themselves, their bodies or the dealings with their bodies. But also for those who know a vicitm of SVV (self injured behaviour(?)) n their suroundings.

It should show that maybe you can't solve every problem at least not immediately and not alone - but you can speak about it and find people who have the same problems. Damn, we are not alone with our tales.

You can look at this posts as a nest, a shelter where you can speak freely - about your experiences, feelings and thoughts. Noone asks stupid questions or point at you. We are between you and me.

my problem isn't away and I am not cured - neither in my perception nor on the paper I wriet on - and I still have the urge to start again with some special behaviours... but I still know that there are alternatives and ways out of this.

One way should are this posts. Respectful to the thoughts and feelings of the others are one supposition; honesty is desirable in every way."

29.06.2005 14:55
hallo, first thank you L. for this opportunity here :)

I still have only a few minutes yet, so this contribution might be a bit hacked to the end but I hope you will forgive me...

I still don't know where to start... the first time I can remember conscious that I injure myself was at the 4th grade. That was the point where I cut into my wrist with a scissor - again and again.My mother discovered it because I any clues in my further "diary" (if you can call it that way)... She blamed me and everything...

I can't say if there was anything after this because I only have a fragmentary memory of my childhood. I just can say that I didn't have an easy time in this period. At this time started an extrem mobbing from my classmates which probably was the trigger...

After this I can remember a situation 3 or 4 years ago which drove me to this behaviour again. Not to the hurting itself but to the psychical injury... I couldn't and I still didn't want anymore, I just wanted to stop, with all. I am just on my way to deal with this situation but there are still memories on thier way out which I don't like.

It really starts ond and a half year ago. Why? I still don't know. I have to say that I never used a razorblade or some sharp subjects.At this time I got pretty long and sharp nails with whom I carved my skin till it bleed... I didn't know what I did, it was like in emotion... just carve the palm in the line in the palm of the hand till it bleeds or at least till I realize the pain... I never led the wound heal. but I opened it again and again... even little scratches or gnat bites I scratched... One day my mother discovered it and asked me but she was satisfied with an easy answer....
then, 9 month ago, the next "push" came the arm was on it. again pretty long nails, again till the skin teared, till it bleeded. Fortunatly it was the season where you wear longer clothes...
Since this healed I avoid to let my nails grow, I nibbled my nails that far down that there were no millimeter tower above...
Since about a hlaf year I didn't injure myself conscious, and there were days where the desire was quite intense und where the turn away wasn't easy...
Though, about two month ago the totally collapse came, physical and psychological. nothing went wright and I almost gripped the razorblade... The only reason which really stopped me was, like E., m,y boyfriend. I just didn't watn to hurt him with this...
but till this day I catch myself there (especially when i'm very stressed) that i scratch myself that long till i hurts and then I realize what I did.

I don't want to talk about it, but I also can't speak about what's going on inside of me. but it's getting better since my relationship.

I apologize for the scrawling, it's the first time I write this all connected...

edit: A., it was the same with me, that the diversion was something different. It was the thing, I think over two months, that I almost ate nothing. For breakfast a yoghurt, for dinner something small because my mother watched me eating. and at the moment I eat quite a lot...when and where the reversal was, I just can't say it, too...

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