This topic is now closed to further replies.
some background. I grew up poor and most of my memories are from the housing crash of 2008. So i grew up eating meager meals in a crappy neighborhood and wearing clothes until they wore out. After the housing crisis and i was in middleschool my parents got divorced and i lived with my mom. We were even more poor, so much so that we couldnt pay utilities sometimes. My dad was so poor that he was homeless for a year and lived with a friend for another year before he got a duplex apartment. Now my mom is married to a rich man with a rich mom and a rich family and im living in a nice middle class house with a middle class zip code. so why do i feel so guilty whenever i get something from my mom or when she buys me things i need? I went school clothes shopping yesterday and i was filled with gut wrenching guilt every time i would look at the prices for my clothes. when my mom said she spent 400 dollars in all for me and my siblings it made me feel even worse. nothing was really expensive by any means but any dollar spent on me makes me feel like im terrible and vain and shouldnt need anything. Even though thats not true. Ive been walking around with one pair of jeans and sneakers with holes in them because im too scared to ask for new ones. it really sucks because my parents are really understanding and great. dose anyone else who grew up poor feel this way? just asking to make sure im not crazy//
I kind of made this account on a whim at 3 in the morning on a thursday but i guess i just want to rant
Ive been clean for about two years no sometimes i did little things to hurt myself but nothing i never considered that """self harm""" i guess because i couldnt get in trouble for it// I relapsed for real last weekend and while i was doing it i liked it and it "took me back" i guess// But now i regret it so much, the florida summer is not forgiving and ive been wearing thick crewnecks every day// i forgot how much the aftermath sucked but i still want to do it again// Ive been seeking out triggering content nearly every day stuff on instagram mostly// Its not helping and im getting more depressed every day// I was supposed to hang out with my friend before he left for Europe but i canceled because i was so anxious to leave the house also to go to his house alone// Ive been canceling plans a week in advance, that ive had planned for weeks// i left my house yesterday to go the mall and wondered around for 2 hours alone// mostly this is a rant about how shitty ive been feeling for the past week. sorry// probably never going to post again idk
Recently I had a bought of noise that I wasn't able to fight off well due to being distracted by a personal issue. Of course, the reason I lost footing in the first place was because of the mildly stressful issue.
What I am wondering, is if there is a better way to distract the voices.
I am usually able to mute them by using foundational logic to win. But, when something has me questioning my beliefs in my choices and actions (which is irritatingly easy to do), I am at their mercy. I used to have 'good' voices that would hold my body back from doing anything physically because of the 'bad' voices. I had cleaned them all out a while back while trying to get better. This has left me openly exposed for these sudden surprise attacks on my sanity. I don't want to rely on 'good' voices anymore. This has been used against me in the past for me to psychologically manipulate myself into living how I wanted to myself to live. I hated that. It wasn't only me manipulating myself. It was crazy. I don't even know if it was me doing that to myself or if it was one of the 'bad' voices in particular who had a name. I don't want to believe that he could do that, so I try to say it was myself. It would be impossible for it to be myself manipulating myself... But, this is currently the only way I can move on until I can find actual help.
Sorry about that weird spiral. Yesterday I scratched the word "mistake" into my arm while arguing with the voices and coming up at loss in the battle for a while. While in conversation, I am lost in thought fighting, when I lose something else can get control of my body. I forgot to have a notepad and pencil ready. They so want to make their mark on reality that they will carve their words onto or into anything. I've put up quite a few psychological stops over the years that prevented self harm, but a lot of those were linked to the 'good' voices who would battle with positive noise against the negative noise. One of the other stops I've made is the use of the cyrillic alphabet instead of the latin alphabet with any written discussion having to do with my voices so that they are forced to translate the letters over. This means the word "mistake" was scratched into my arm in cyrillic letters. This used to slow the majority of them down, but not anymore. I've also forgotten the numb feeling and the weird sensation gotten by pain that makes it through the haze, because it no longer registers as pain. I used to use the boiling frog hot water method as a means for pain management due to a chronic condition. Either that or hot wax. I have forgotten all of these important things until now as I write this. It makes me feel pretty stupid for forgetting all of this and getting so comfy thinking I was getting better.
There has got to be a better way to distract the voices and win than to rely on honing 'good' voices. I don't want to rely on voices to fight voices when I am powerless. I want to find a physical means, something more real to help.
By X Anime Lover X
I’ll get straight to it, I cut myself.
This was my first time cutting.
I don’t know why, the thought of cutting kept haunting my mind. I decided after school I would do it. Just once.
I was alone in the house at the time and got everything I needed. I had a first aid kit, a small screwdriver and a sharpener.
I took out the blade and I was nervous and did it high up on my thigh. I cut twice on my thigh then on my hips. I got carried away and cleaned up the cuts. There were more cuts then I intended and I cleaned everything up hiding the evidence.
I’m a little shaky from what I did but I don’t regret it.
I don’t believe I did it and it doesn’t bother me.
I’m scared what others will think if they find out.