I wrote something in my therapy journal that I'm terrified of passing over in my next session. I don't know if I should, and I'm really, really nervous.
"I don't know why I cut myself today, I just felt like I had to do it. I was only going to do it once but it didn't feel like I was done so I kept going. I made 3 cuts, at first only thin lines of blood, but I wanted to see more than that so I kept tracing over the cuts with my blade. When I was done they were dripping, although they really weren't deep. I cleaned myself up and went out of the bathroom and back to my work station at the cash. Until then I had been pretty slow going and really had to push myself to be social, but afterwards I felt weirdly happier and my smile and friendly attitude to customers came naturally.
It really shouldn't make any difference but it does. It's like when I try to stop for a few days, part of me is missing. It's the exact same way I felt when I started eating again (and still do feel that way). Something really is missing in me. Mom tells me to think positively and I will then be better. She doesn't realize that when I try to stop everything, I feel the part of me that's missing more.
I realized something though. As much as I wish I could kill myself, I can't. I'm stuck here because I can't destroy my family. Maybe they would be okay. After a while they might be. But I don't want my family wondering if there was something they did that drove me to it or something they didn't do or something they should have picked up on, or how mom would reflect on the times we fought and how much I cried and told her I wanted to die. I don't want any of them to blame themselves. I want to do it so bad it hurts to think about how I can't. I just can't ruin them.
I thought about writing a letter to keep them from blaming themselves. I have composed that letter in my mind so many times that sometimes I just want to put it on paper even if I never use it.
I have considered starving again and letting the anorexia kill me this time. That would seem less deliberate and may be easier on my family's minds than pills or cutting my wrists or jumping. It would be gradual and they would eventually realize they were going to lose me and they would probably blame me for a while but ultimately would blame the illness. It was just a thought, maybe considered a little too long a few too many times, but ultimately I don't think I can put them through that in any way."
This would actually help your therapist. They have doctor-patient confidentiality so they don't have to tell your family. They would be able to know your state of mind before, during, and after; this would not only help get console you, but help to explain the problem biologically (as this seems to be calming to you (but I'm not the expert))
Go for it. They want you to be personal, and talking really helps.
"Another day when you drain yourself completely could be the night when your life ends."
"Well if you wanted honestly, that's all you had to say."
"I just want to get out of this prison cell; someday I'm gonna be free..."
"The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out..."
"If I scream, if I cry, it's only 'cause I feel alive."
"How can you be so flawless?"
That sounds like it would be fine to give to your therapist, they sound like very common thoughts and feelings and I'm sure your therapist will be able to work through all this with you.
"I don't know why I cut myself today, I just felt like I had to do it. I was only going to do it once but it didn't feel like I was done so I kept going. I made 3 cuts, at first only thin lines of blood, but I wanted to see more than that so I kept tracing over the cuts with my blade. When I was done they were dripping, although they really weren't deep. I cleaned myself up and went out of the bathroom and back to my work station at the cash. Until then I had been pretty slow going and really had to push myself to be social, but afterwards I felt weirdly happier and my smile and friendly attitude to customers came naturally.
It really shouldn't make any difference but it does. It's like when I try to stop for a few days, part of me is missing. It's the exact same way I felt when I started eating again (and still do feel that way). Something really is missing in me. Mom tells me to think positively and I will then be better. She doesn't realize that when I try to stop everything, I feel the part of me that's missing more.
I could have wrote this, it's very much how I feel, act and react.
