I believe it's no coincidence that I have a blog during this time. The Universe sets things up perfectly, I must say. My blog is up and running during a time where I feel very alone and clogged with emotions, anxiety, sadness and a mixture of other negative feelings. It's like a cocktail for disaster, but these feelings are valid and I need to embrace them to continue my healing/recovery process. So, I'm going to do what I do best and that's put everything into words. I don't know where this is going to end up, but I pray to find some solace.
I'm getting self-harm urges and I haven't gotten those this strong in a long time. Thankfully, I am better at ignoring them now. At least the physical self-harm urges. I’ve come to the conclusion that self-harm isn’t always physical. I found out that when my anxiety is at its peak I make decisions that will hurt me because somehow, I think I’m helping others in the process. It’s really stupid when I put it in words but it makes sense to me in the moment.
My self-harm habit began as a form of self-punishment. Whenever I did something stupid, I would engage in self-harm. Whenever I felt stupid, I would do it. When I did something to other people, I would do it. Eventually it became an addictive coping method and it calmed me down. So, now that I don’t do physical self-harm anymore, I see now that I do non-physical harm to myself subconsciously. These include:
- Removing myself from other people’s lives
- Isolating myself
- Pushing people away
- Thinking “logically” instead of honoring my emotions/desires
- Depriving myself of pleasure
- Thinking the worst, believing the worst then reacting to that
- Talking down on myself/Self-deprecating jokes
- Drinking (which actually classifies as physical self-harm since it does affect my body directly—so maybe I’m just realizing that I sometimes use it as a form of self-harm, but I’m gonna keep it here anyway)
And that’s all I can really think of.
I wrote this during one of my non-physical self-harm parties:
“I just wish someone would be there for me without judging how I feel. I spent my entire life finding strength in my truth. Everyone made me feel like I had to have a good reason to be sad, or mad, or frustrated. Everyone just wants me to get over everything and get back to normal. It's 2017, it's October, which means the year is almost over, and I still feel like my feelings don't count sometimes. I still feel like I have to heal fast so I can be the fun, hilarious, animated Brittany that everyone likes. I can't be everything—happy, sad, depressed, elated. No one wants that. They want the parts of me that serve them. Nothing feels unconditional anymore. It's like people only fuck with me when it's convenient for them somehow. I'm going through the first breakdown/depressive episode that I've had in years and I feel alone, like I always did as a kid. The last time I was this down, I had just had Brooklyn, I think. That was less than two years ago. It was postpartum and postpartum depression is a bitch.”
In a clearer state of mind, I know that most of that is projection. The projection comes from the ungrateful/child part of me who wants certain people to be there for me, but they are not. I always wanted certain family members to be there for me, never got it so, I sought outside people to be there for me.
When I invest a lot of my feelings (romantically/intimately) into a person, I expect certain things from them. It actually makes me ungrateful for the friends (the real friends, I mean, not the frenemies) that are always there for me and genuinely care about me. I spend a lot of energy wondering why my lovers don’t show up for me when I’m having a hard time instead of appreciating the friends who show up no matter what. I recognize that pattern now and I accept my role in that.
I do spend my life finding strength in my truth. Everyone did make me feel like I had to have a good reason to feel how I felt. When I first began physical self-harm and I had a conversation with my family, they were not understanding at all. They made everything about them, they kept asking if I wanted to die, they made me feel worse about it. They didn’t take the time to try and understand me or listen to me. There was no patience. This was the 8th grade so, I had to be like 13 or 14 years old. I’m a kid, depressed, using a razor blade for comfort and all you ask me is if I want to die. It’s laughable.
The most upsetting moment that I will never forget is when I went to the doctor around the early stages of my habit for a check-up and my doctor saw my scars and cuts. She asked me why I did what I did and before I could say anything, my mom blurted out, “BOYS!” in the most condescending, mocking, dismissive tone ever. I sucked in a breath and just looked at the doctor. I didn’t want to tell her anymore. I just let her believe what my mom clearly believed. It bothered me that my mom thought “boys” were the reason I cut myself. She reduced my escape from emotional pain down to some bullshit, small teenage mishap. She basically told the doctor I had a silly, unimportant reason for cutting myself. It made me feel like how I felt and how I dealt with my pain was unimportant. She always found a way to make my feelings not matter and that’s a moment I will never forget.
That’s why it bothers me when people are condescending, dismissive or mock my feelings. I grew up like that and I don’t react to it well as an adult.
The most ironic part of it all is that she and my father were part of the reason I began cutting. But I’m still not ready to tell that story so, I’ll just leave that there.
Yes, it’s 2017 and it’s October. Yes, I still feel like my feelings don’t count sometimes. They never counted growing up. Like, ever. As an adult, I found strength in my vulnerability and I’m proud of the steps I made. I speak my mind more and I stand by my feelings. However, I’m deep in my depression again, and I feel like they don’t matter. I don’t know. It’ll pass, I’m sure. In fact, I know that it will. I just think I should speak on it.
Sometimes I think, “why bother? It doesn’t matter.” Things bother me and I want to speak on them but then I feel like I’ll be annoying. Someone hurts me or makes me feel some kind of way, and I don’t wanna say something because then I’ll be annoying. It gets to the point where other people feel like it’s them that’s the problem.
However, I do believe that some people only want to be associated with me for what I can do for them—whether it’s making them laugh, making them cum, making them happy, making them feel superior, or anything else that can help them in some kind of way. There are people who want to drain me but give me nothing in return. They show up, suck me dry then when I have nothing left to give (or when I’m depressed like now), they disappear and wait till I’m back on my feet.
What’s even worse, though, are the people who have popped up now that I’m depressed. “Oh, I was just checking on you” but when I was good, I didn’t hear from you. I don’t know what’s worse: people disappearing when you’re depressed because it’s convenience or a burden to them, or people showing up when you’re depressed because it’s a convenience or an opportunity to gain something in your time of weakness. It’s hard to tell the difference.
I only know one person who has been patient with me during this emotional/mental/spiritual blackout for me. Everyone else makes me nervous and I can’t trust them.
The last time I had a mental breakdown was when I had postpartum.
It was a weird time then and it’s a weird time now. The parallel component is that my life is going exceptionally well but I feel like nothing matters. Showering is a hassle. All I want to wear are hoodies with the hood up. I do not wish to communicate with people. I don’t want to socialize with people unless I know them and are comfortable with them. I spend most of the day not verbally speaking. In fact, I’m so silent during the day that when I do speak, the sound of my own voice scares me. The difference between then and now is my appetite. I actually eat MORE now and I actually like that.
I’m learning so much about myself during this time…I just figured I would be transparent and share.
I love you all.
With Love,
From Britt