Today I cut myself with a knife because I want someone to care.

I told my husband I needed him to be with me today but he went to work anyway. So I cut myself. It’s the first time I’ve done it.

I just want him to care.

For the record, the cut is pathetic. It barely broke the skin. But I see pinpricks of blood so in my head it counts. Is it sick that I’m actually proud of it? I’m so afraid of pain I thought I’d never be able to bring myself to self harm. It’s an achievement really. A sick, twisted achievement. But it’s all I achieve in my hell of a life other than existing so I think it deserves a mention.

I despise myself so much.

4 thoughts on “Cut

  1. Oh Ella. HUGS. And more hugs.

    I’m sorry your husband wasn’t supportive like you needed him to be. I can imagine that hurt. And then it was translated into physical pain. I know what you mean about being proud of it – I have the marks on my arm to prove I’ve felt the same. But I also know how much I regret making these ugly thick red scars, because as much as they felt right and justified at the time, they cause nothing but grief now. I have to deal with them every day, when I go to work, when I’m on a bus, any situation where I’m not alone, I have to cover up, and it’s a pain. So, on a practical level, can I just gently warn you of the potential consequences? You might not care now, but you might well later.

    Practicality aside though, if you find yourself in this situation again, or similar, maybe consider:
    – Cold shower. As in, the moment you feel like harming, you turn the shower on full blast, cold, and get in immediately, with clothes on. They used to do this in inpatient wards back in the day; the shock will knock you out of the dangerous state of mind.
    – Similar logic: fill bowl with ice and water, and keep your hand in there for thirty seconds. It hurts like hell.
    – There’s always the elastic band-round-the-wrist trick, but I find that more useful in milder situations.

    Please don’t hate yourself. You don’t deserve that.

    Hang in there.

    • Thankyou. Thankyou so much. It helps to know someone understands. I’m terrified that it happened, I feel like I’ve crossed a line somehow, like there’s no going back now I’ve done it. Does that sound weird? And even though it felt justified when I did it, it made me loathe myself even more later.
      And yes it did hurt that my husband wasn’t supportive, but thankfully we’ve talked now and resolved things so I feel a little better. I’m just terrified by it all. I hate myself for hating myself so much I could do that

      • I swear I was the same – I really freaked out, I couldn’t even tell Dr T; it felt like as you said, I’d crossed some kind of line. You can’t undo any action really, but you can decide not to do it again. That power is yours. You can remember how you felt once the heat of the moment wore off, and choose not to go there again.

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