Last night, I got into a fight with my father. He claimed my mother and I were too much like friends and not enough like mother and daughter. That she's too immature. That she wants to be friends w/my friends and me but she's 30, not 14. I got angry and I yelled and screamed. I went up to the bathroom, slammed the dorr, and was met with "Your brother needs to brush his teeth." I screamed, "Yeah, well, I need to change my tampon!" So, I did my bathroom business and thought, "God. Do I want to cut myself. All I want to do right now is cut." Background info: I've never hurt myself intentionally but I have friends that do. Early September, I was overwhelmed and wanted to cut. Wanted my parents back together (not happening). Was very low inside but seemed normal to my friends and family. Back to last night: I knew I was not about to scar my body for life. I was not touching that razor for one second. Had I, I would have cut. No doubt in my mind. Instead, I went downstairs and got a red marker. Back up to my room, shut the door, and drew on my left wrist as though I were cutting. 5 lines parallel to my wrist, one perpindicular. My right calf-three diagonal lines over three other lines in a tic-tac-toe pattern-ish. Left calf- 11 diagonal lines, same pattern. My legs are covered by my jeans today. My arm, by my sweater. Math next period. I"m tolling the arms of my sweater up. Hope Lindz got my note. It said, "Do me a huge favor, plz? Look at my left arm. Ask about it." So far, no one has noticed. v_v Not Kim or Laura or Sarah. I didn't let my arm show to anyone else. TIme to see if she got it. Update later, I promise.
Love always,
Vickey
Later-She hadn't got my note. I showed her. She was surprisingly calm. I scared her. I had a few very typical cutter reactions. I didn't want to tell people. I wanted them to find out and ask. I wanted them to show that they care by asking if I was okay, what happened. I felt calm after I drew...... I keep seeing my legs, the redness of the lines. I had washed my arm so it was faded but, my legs are untouched. It keeps scaring me. I keep thinking I'm bleeding. I'm worried b/c this may progress. I hope not but, it might. V_V I'm also worried about what you all will think. Writing in here is such a new and different experience. I write all the time but, never in a public setting. People read this. On a regular basis. Every word. You are, aren't you? I find myself wanting to censor myself but, I want to be candid. If I want to say, shit , I want to be able to say shit without worrying what you'll think. I just censored myself again. I was going to say f*** instead of shit but, I held it back. Enough self-analysis for now.
Love always,
Vickey~
1 comment:
So my question is ... ARE you OK? Yeah I'm worried. But I'm also impressed that you can write these things down, get them out. I'll never judge your actions, might sound worried as hell, put in my 2 cents worth of advice, do the dad thing cause that's what I is. But I'm in no place to judge you mylady, nor should anyone else, I believe. You are intelligent, anyone who can speak & write more than one language shows flexibility of mind and creativity. Cutting like any other devient behavior designed to bring relief (as well as pain) can become addictive. In essence Vickey, YOU are in the drivers seat. Any other adults you trust to blow off steam to, let loose and tell how pissed you get at dad ... and perhaps mom a bit too? I'm scared for you, but also believe in you. I ask you not to cut mostly because ALL the woman I know who practiced this as teens now regret it. But in the end, the blade rests in YOUR hand. It's your body, 24/7, for the rest of your time spent in this world. Keep on writin, others and myself will keep on readin. I for one will keep on believing in the talented, multi-ligual, creative, giggly, PMS ridden, romantic at heart, Picean that makes you who you are. Toodles mylady.
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