Ive had a few ‘normal’ weeks when Ive felt connected and part of relationships with people that I’ve met. I’ve made small talk in queues ad smiled at screeching children. Its been amazing but also uncomfortable feeling the weathers chill touch me and peoples expectations of me rise.
I’ve cuddled my kids and told them I love them into their freshly washed hair. My youngest tells me “don’t kiss me” and dodges forwards and backwards chortling each time he comes close then darts away. My eldest snuggles his head into my neck as if he’s trying to climb into my skin.
Then, the other day, possibly inspired by my wellness and stability my therapist said what I’ve been ignoring and avoiding. Instantly I was sucked away from the world. A glass screen shut down. Self harm became my solace.
Lying in bed last night I decided that my SH was too risky. I needed a safer, less harmful form of SH but one that fulfilled my ‘need’. As I thought this I became aware of how ludicrous it was; to alter my SH rather than focusing on reducing and preventing it. But doing that seems far beyond my reality.
I know someone who has not SH for months; when she got to 100 days I felt such pride, amazement, joy and excitment for her to have a world not overshadowed by the stemming of blood and the picking up in the aftermath.
Ive had weeks without SH. I think I’ve even had months! I hope to wake up one day, and without even being aware of it, to not be dictated to by the cravings, physical sensations and endless nagging in my brain; all of these now are louder than a screeching child.
My lovely boys took photos of some lego figures for my blog……