Twenty-five Days

Until three years since I cut
Surreal
Is that time
A long yet short journey of freedom
It really is like an addiction
We like to think its not
But I promise anyone
Whose in recovery will tell you there’s
Withdrawals and cravings and relapses
Like there is a deep longing in your soul for that
One last cut
One last time
But that one
May be the last
I wasn’t ready for that risk
That’s why I quit
It takes risk
And accountability
And struggle
And tenacity
It is hard
One of the hardest things I’ve done
But also one of the most rewarding
I’ve mentioned to a couple people
About the tattoo
I plan to get in August
For my 3 year anniversary
Just a simple ‘III’
On my arm
The Roman numerals
And I’ve had several comments
About pride in me
And my strength
And how it’s a good way to remember
And a positive coping mechanism
And a good way to cover the scars
But to me
It’s a whole lot more
It is my accountability
It is my victory count
My proof of things achieved
These scars are nothing for me to be ashamed
They are my battle scars
They are the the times when I wanted to give up
But I didn’t
They are the times
I was hurting to much
For my little brain to handle
They are the days I kept living when I wanted
So badly to die
I am proud that I no longer have to cope
By choosing an almost death
Over a full death
I am proud that I survived

~Sarah

FAQ: Why I Self-Harm

***Trigger Warning: Cutting, Self-Harm, Hospital, ER, Medication***

 

I have been asked no less than 1000 times why I’ve self-harm, like why I do it. And it’s taken me until recently (4.19.16) to be able to answer this question in a way I feel is accurate for me. The answer: because it’s the one thing that I could always count on. It is the one thing that never let me down.

I have/had a routine or some would call a ritual. It includes preparing my tool, the actual act, and then the after/clean up. It’s something, one thing, my brain can focus 100% on for a few minutes. As an autistic person, this is rare…even hard. I feel so much. All the time. Sometimes it just needs to stop. Stop. For 15 minutes. And for 15 minutes I can have a single thought. A single focus. – A lot of people say exercise is a good alternative. For some maybe, for me it is not. For me, and I know for many others who struggle with self-harm, exercise is also a struggle of its own.

The Prep Stage

The prep stage includes new tools every time and rinsing the new tool with water.  (I promised myself before the first time I self-harmed I would only use clean ones each time, and never use one more than a 3-4 times). Then I would get in the shower to actually self-harm. (Only a couple times did I ever not get in the shower to harm and it was the times I ended up cutting super deep on accident: I was in a hurry).

There was a couple times growing up when I forgot my tools in the bathroom after I was done and never once was I caught, but man I was terrified of it. And then when I left home and lived on my own I constantly had several tools in my shower “just in case” is what I told myself. It was my safe guard.

After Self-harm

After I have self-harmed, I then have something to take care of. Something to fix. Something to heal. Something to change. I rinse it in water in the shower. I make sure the cuts stops bleeding. And then go about my shower. After my shower, drying is complicated because I mostly cut on my forearms, (early on I cut my thighs and my stomach, mostly because they were easier to hide). I would dry careful, as not to rip any open. And then I wear long sleeves so no one sees but also to protect them from germs. And I would clean the cuts once a day with warm water in the shower. (Later I did start covering them with gauze and an ace wrap, and treating them with lavender).

Today

It has been almost 3 years since I last self-harmed (32 months and 10 days if you want to be exact). And it’s been hard, I’ve had times where I really struggled to not self-harm. The last 2 ½ months or so my anxiety has increased significantly, because for the first time in my life all of my basic needs are met. For the first time in my life, I am able to not have to live in a dissociative or partly dissociative state all the time. And the last couple weeks have been particularly hard not cutting, so hard I even went to the psych ER (for anyone who knows me personally knows that is not something I am a fan of and use only as a last resort because I have had several bad experiences with it). It was truly life altering though, my fiancé took me and stayed the entire time by my side and spoke and explained things when I couldn’t. Being autistic, it’s hard for me to put things into verbal words sometimes. The ER is a dedicated ER here in Central Texas for psychiatric care and I received fantastic care, the doctor and the social worker really listened to me and what I needed and make sure I was as comfortable as I could be. They gave me a trial prescription to try in the mean time before I could seem my normal doctor, and they gave me awesome resources for therapy. This trip truly changed my life.

 

~Sarah