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When enough is too much
I have noticed that SH does nothing for my emotional/mental pain anymore unless it leaves serious marks. I don't want to stare at scars anymore. I don't want to feel ashamed when my husband looks at me. I don't want him to follow through on his threat of hurting himself if he learns I have done it again. I am mad at him, he is being a jerk... but can't I find some self respect anyway? If I don't want to stare down evidence for the next months, perhaps that is a start to self respect. When I look at them, it reminds me that I was weak and I don't like seeing and feeling that every time I shower. Still, in the heat of the moments, it's not so logical (you know, the more serious the destruction, the better I feel... the more I can tear myself apart, destroy the misplaced stupid hope I had... myself). People say that honest self hatred is not possible, but in moments like those, I wonder. It's like conducting rape upon yourself, when you hate every touch.. you are both people at the same time, the precious fearful virgin being destroyed, and the man enjoying every discovery of every precious thing to be twisted and torn. Blah.
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