*Trigger Warning: This post may contain triggers surrounding self-injury. Please take a minute to read The Sunny Shadow Disclaimer.
I often write about my bipolar mood swings after the fact, so I want to try something different. Write about it now. While I’m actually experiencing a bipolar mixed state. Oh, & FYI – I’ve been ultra rapid-cycling lately. Sorry in advance if it’s a bit inarticulate.
I feel . . .
Clenched, tight . . . full of rage that I can’t let out. This rage I just want to explode but I have a craving to do it in a not so healthy way. I also feel tearful at the same time. Sad but full of rage but apathetic but irritable, & like I could explode at the same time. Does this make sense? No. That’s why it’s a disorder.
I have a craving to grab a sharp object, any sharp object, & ever so slowly glide it against my skin. Deep, not too deep, but deep enough that I see a little blood & I feel . . . I FEEL . . . that familiar & grounding burn. But then I’ll do it again, & again, & again. *Bonus: I’ll feel that burn for days… when I shower, when I get dressed, when anything rubs against my broken skin, I’ll feel it.
But no matter how much I romanticize self-harm in my mind, it’s covered in a veil of shame. I have to hide. I have to make sure that no one’s going to walk in on me . . . You know, like my KIDS?! I have to make sure that the physical placement of each cut is in a discreet location, so that there’s no visible evidence. I don’t need a repeat of the past. My family members hid all knives & other sharp objects, like if I saw one I’d be overtaken by an uncontrollable compulsion to hurt myself.
. . . . . . . . . The rage is gone now. Just tears. I can’t stop them, & that in itself is rage-producing. Now I want to self-harm to stop this. This whole process is exhausting & frustrating. The negotiating is tiresome; my shadow trying to justify self-harm but my conscious, rational self being, well, rational . . . telling my shadow, “NO.” Usually rationality wins out, but there sure has been lots of negotiations lately.
Some part of me enjoys this sick place, that’s the piece I don’t understand. Why do I like it here? Is it the familiarity? I’ve said this before, I know, but I’m concerned that one day I might stay here. The thing is, I know I wouldn’t actually stay here. I would unwillingly fall deeper into this darkness, which turns into hopelessness, helplessness, psychosis, & being held against my will in institutions. And eventually suicidal ideation would evolve into the most organized plan I’ve ever made.
SO, the question: should I cut? It may bring me out of this quicker. -That’s just my shadow making justifications, isn’t it? Isn’t it?