WArning****Could be triggering for self harmers***Warning***Please take care of yourself and do not read if you are a self harmer


I’m guilty of 2nd degree burns. My wrist is slathered is antibiotic cream and wrapped in sterile pads for protection. The elements aren’t what my wrist is in need of protection; it’s me that is the menace. It happened last Friday. I can’t even tell you what happened. It was an out of body experience. I looked down and saw myself burning my wrist and I was so disconnected from my senses that I couldn’t do anything about it.

I’m no stranger to burns. Last year, in residential treatment, one of my alters stole a pack of cigarettes (I don’t smoke), lit them, and listlessly applied put the cigarette out on my skin, re-lit the cigarette, and continued the same pattern. I have 12 very deep scars that refuse to fade. But the doctor said this burn wouldn’t scar. I guess we’ll see. I won’t go into details how this burn came about, but it was with something bigger and hotter than a cigarette butt, and it was applied to the soft, vulnerable tissue of the inside of my wrist. It bubbled up and turned red. It has finally stopped oozing and so I wait for the tissue to slough off. That’s when it will start hurting.

I wish I would stop hurting myself. Do I not deserve better? (Switch) All the binging and the purging and the starving and the burning and the cutting. It’s enough. But I sit here blind, feeling the shifts taking place inside me. Do you, the reader, know what the shifts are like?

I feel my expression change. I hear a different tone of thought in my head, sometimes a different style of expression. My mannerisms are different. My head feels chaotic, as if a million bees are buzzing around, or my mind could feel very dense and foggy-like, where no thought gets through or originates. It is very disconcerting and makes me feel like I just want to rip my head off.

It has been happening a lot and I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t believe I’m revealing this in this post. It seems so personal to me and that the heavens will collapse unto my world for having the audacity to reveal our private hell for others to exploit. The chance of exploitation is minimal, but the fear and threat is very real. My head starts to ache at just the thought. I wish somebody would tell me they understand, because I sure as hell don’t.

I don’t know what they want from me. A chance to share their story?

By all means, share away. I don’t mean to be disrespectful to them but I can’t take much more. I want to know them. (shift) They continue to shift as I write this. One after another, they slide into the space beside my mind and operate in tandem with me. Do they even know I am here?

So I meet with my therapist again today. We meet 3x a week. I hated going to see her yesterday, but today I’m more grateful for it. She just asks questions I don’t have answers to yet.

Didn’t workout yesterday, but today I’m keeping my schedule light so I can head to the gym right after my appt with said T. 60 minutes of cardio will put me in a better frame of thinking. I think I have a deal struck with my dietitian. Since I told her not being able to exercise would be a deal breaker she stipulated I try and exercise less. In all honesty I can try. Will it happen? Probably not. But she can always hope.

What is it about self harm that is so addictive? As I go to finish this post, that is what is in my head. Go burn.

I leave in an hour for my T. I can stave it off that long. I can stave it off that long. I can stave it off that long. Anybody have ruby slippers to rub together?