An encounter with a razor

It has been almost a week since I have been told that my surgery will not be happening for another 8 months or so and to saw I just got over it would be a huge understatement. It has been hard, I’ve had days where I’ve stayed in bed and days where I got on with my life but never the less knowing that I am going to have to live with an underbite for at least another 8 months has been on my mind every day. I’ve been trying to push it to the back of my mind, right back so that I can move on and in many ways just forget about it but it is proving to be a lot harder than I thought! I think despite everything I have been coping well with the news, after all I have been looking forward to this operation for a while now and I was just so close I thought it was finally going to happen but of course I was wrong. I can’t even begin to explain how living with an underbite makes me feel, I feel so many different things, everything from angry to sadness to feeling ugly and even hating myself for having an underbite.

Sunday was one of my worse days, I felt trapped within my body and I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t physically make myself do anything! I isolated myself, stayed in bed and did as little as humanly possible in an attempt to get through the day. The day progressed and my feelings of angry and self-hatred intensified so much so I was forced to battle the crippling urges of self-harm.

It’s been a while since I have felt like this! Since finishing my DBT therapy in March I have been doing very well, with no incidents of self-harm and almost no urges however this urges were strong! Incredible strong and I just couldn’t find the power within myself to fight them off and so I planned what I wanted to do, I planned where I was going to harm and I even planned how I was going to hide the marks, I was all systems go but minus my implement. I went in search for something sharp enough to use, something which would cause damage and something which would provide me with the maximum relief and so I was lead to the all too familiar razor blade! What used to be my cushion, my safety net was once again providing me with some much needed comfort.

Now let me tell you, getting a razor blade out of the plastic can take some time and to be honest I was so glad that it took time! Yes I grew frustrated that I couldn’t get the blade out but once I did, once I got the blade out and once I had the opportunity to self-harm I realised I was better than that. Yeah I was hoping to get some relief from my thoughts and yeah I felt that harming myself was the right thing to do but when I actually got there, when I had the opportunity to do it I knew I couldn’t let myself go back down that road, I knew I couldn’t let myself begin destroying my body again.

I battled through self-harm and it has not been an easy thing to do, it has been a huge struggle actually. I have had many setbacks, bumps in the road, and relapses whatever you want to call them but right now I have been free from self-harm since February. 6 months, half a year, 20 weeks, 182 days without self-harm and I was not about to let my underbite destroy that!

Im not sure if it was my will power to continue my self-harm free days or if it was that the urges subsided by the time I got the razor out of the plastic but never the less I survived, I made it through the urges and I am so glad that I did not make that cut! I am so glad I can still say I no longer self-harm! Sunday was one of my darkest days which was no doubt brought on by my feelings towards my delay in surgery, my feelings towards my underbite and my feelings towards myself and I’m sure I may have many more of those dark days but now, now I know I can make it through those days! Who know I might self-harm in the future but knowing that I can claim victory against these urges, that could be the difference between a fresh cut and old scars, this victory is what can help me through future darker days and it is with a smile on my face that I can say I am in control and I am strong enough to get through each day without self-harm and what’s even better is that I am strong enough to throw away my razor blade, that cushion I once had is no longer my cushion and with that after getting through Sunday I threw away that new razor blade with delight knowing that it no longer could control me!

Popular posts from this blog

A prisoner of my own mind

A while ago I wrote about a bump in the road that saw me take a step backwards…. That bump is still very much on the road and I am simply coasting along hoping the end is in sight somewhere. But when the end comes I have to ask, how long will it last for? How long will the good times last before we hit another bump? I don’t want this anymore, I no longer want the label I have attached to me, I don’t want borderline personality disorder. When I was first diagnosed I resisted my diagnoses, last year when I got unwell again and found myself re-entering the mental health services and engaging with the community mental health team I had to use every ounce of energy to truly accept my diagnosis and in many ways empower the label and allow it to help me understand myself. That label, which had a positive purpose no longer holds the same status, now it is simply something I do not want, something which has taken over my mind and body, it is something that I need gone, I need it to disappe
Read more

An unexpected week

Last week I went back to work and to say I was scared would be an understatement! On Sunday night I prepared myself as much as I could for what I anticipated to be one of the worst weeks I would experience in work. I expected to be riddled with anxiety to the point where I wouldn’t be able to go to work- I was not. I expected to feel pure panic as I drove to work each day, bordering on a full-blown panic attack- I did not. I expected to cry, each day over something minor, something small, something that wouldn’t have mattered- I did not. I expected to obsess over everything; put more rituals in place to ensure everything was perfect-I did not. I expected to hide the fact that I had been in hospital for my mental health, I expected to allow the shame I was feeling to take control, I expected to shy away from my colleagues during the week, I expected to fight this battle on my own, but I did not. It was a hard week in many ways, it was the first week back, I was sc
Read more

Shame

A week ago I found myself explaining to my therapist how I wanted to end my life, how I was so desperate for my mind to shut off and how I was ready to end it all, in that moment I felt distressed. A week ago I found myself ringing a close friend asking him to collect me from the local health centre because I had to go to hospital and couldn’t trust myself to be left alone, in that moment I felt ashamed. A week ago I found myself ringing my brother in law asking him to bring me to hospital, where I would need to go in order to stay alive, in that moment I felt guilty. A week ago I found myself ringing work to explain that I was being admitted to hospital for my own safety due to my mental health, in that moment I felt embarrassed. A week ago I found myself sitting on a mental health inpatient unit faced with colleagues from my work in pre hospital care working on the unit, in that moment I felt panic. A week ago I found myself fighting to keep myself alive, I found
Read more