Self harming dyke
Oh well. I made it to 10 weeks and 2 days. Not bad. But
then, this Monday, I took a step back.
I felt anxious all day. Really uptight and stressed. When I
got home form work I started on the xanax. I took a couple
and then thought about cutting. But decided I didn't need
to. Sensibly I went down to the bar below my flat and
chatted to my (lovely) landlady. She was a real star.
Crisis seemed to be over. Then some others came in and we
started drinking. A few beers later, I felt the anxiety
coming back. I went o my flat and started knocking back
some xanax. The rest is a blur. I remember ringing my
brother. I hung up on him, so my parents rang me back. My
landlady confiscated my pills.
I woke up at 6am with the Pink track "just like a pill" on
repeat onmy stereo. My bedclothes were soaked with blood.
My wrist hurt so much I couldn't move it. There was a long,
deep cut across it. I don't remember doing it at all.
I went to the hospital and had it dealt with. My old psych
ward said I should consider rehospitalisation. I refused.
I came into work (having rung them to say I had to go to a
doctor because I had fallen down the stairs) at 12. I told
them it was a bad sprain. I pinned a smile on my face and
worked really hard.
I feel very confused. I had such a great evening and really
enjoyed myself for the first time in ages. How did I
suddenly find myself lying in bloodied bedsheets having
almost od'ed? I can't remember. I just can't.
In a way this is good. I feel that it was not really me who
did it, so I have not lost that battle. But it is bad
because I have regressed and undone some of the good.
Oh well. It starts again.
I have not cut for 2 days.