I can make me hurt (Trigger Warning!)

Hurt Nine Inch Nails (live)

I can’t stop listening to this song. It makes me feel some kind of way that I can not ignore.

TRIGGER!! I used to have a problem with needles when I was in Jr. High and High School. We didn’t call it cutting back then, I don’t even know if there was a word for what I was doing to myself. I hate to admit that I used to hurt myself, I know it is sadly not uncommon. I have learned it is not uncommon around girls. I am not a unique snowflake (ha ha, Fightclub reference…).

Sorry, I got distracted… Needles. I used needles because I could explain why I needed one. Hey, I need a needle I have to hem my pants or fix this pocket or, whatever. I had a flashback the other day to being somewhere in my teens and keeping a safety pin pinned to my jeans at all times. I never talked about it, I don’t even think I wrote about it in my kid diary. It was like I knew what I was doing wasn’t “normal”. I would use the needle to rip up my skin or even scratch lines, shapes, initials, whatever. I check myself out every once in a while after a shower and count the scars.

Listening to this song… the lyrics “the needle tears the hole” have me so stuck. I feel like I got hit in the stomach.

Don’t worry, I am not in danger. I am just feeling shit. I work so fucking hard to keep my shit tucked in and the wall is crumbling, kids… I am not sure how I feel about this. I am remembering things that I had kept blocked, things I didn’t even realize were blocked.

I’m not sure what to do with emotion, no matter what it is it always feels weird. I cry at the drop of a hat (my ex used to say when she was on the rag she cried during those carpet cleaning commercials where someone spilled red wine on the white carpet, I’m in the same boat), I am prone to strong bursts of anger, I feel sad and reflexive. Like I just want to cut open my chest in front of the mirror and examine all the gooey stuff in there. Metaphorically, of course. In real life, blood and guts are icky.

I don’t know what it is that made me stop playing with needles. I know that one ex pissed me off to the point that I tried to jump back into the bad habit about 6 years ago (an answer to the why is there a triangle shaped scar on my hand), but long before that I had out grown it. I am lucky that I outgrew that habit, I know some people don’t make it that far. Some people have way more and worse scars than I do.

This song doesn’t so much make me want to, just makes me remember what drew me to it. I really hate feeling empty, I hate that I can’t process my emotions “correctly”. I hate that I can’t smile for real anymore. Dude said a few days or weeks ago that he can’t remember the last time I laughed without it being sarcastic or fake. That’s doing pretty bad, man. I didn’t have words and I still don’t. I just can’t get happy. Most of the time I feel lost and alone.

The best way I could explain to him. I don’t want to hurt myself, I promise I don’t. I just don’t have the motivation to live. I wouldn’t play in traffic, I wouldn’t ever tempt death. But there are days where I could flirt with him a little bit.

Hurt reminds me of those times, thoughts. I never listened to music then the way I do now, I never held on to lyrics like they were written for me. She taught me that. She taught me to take music and use it as my voice when I could not speak. I don’t think she knew it then, but I think she taught me how to heal myself.

As always ❤



I’m Trying 2016


I have been trying to find the words to explain why I am the way I am, I have been trying to understand myself and my actions. I have been trying to understand the reasons behind my lies. I have been trying to understand who I really am behind my many many masks.

I found this little blurb on social media this morning and literally stopped in my tracks. I didn’t even know I was looking for something to say, I didn’t know these were the words I was feeling. I didn’t know how I was feeling. I feel like this is a post I have been trying to write since the New Year.

Why did I walk away from a life that felt like home to me? Why did I ignore the inner voice these last almost 10 years? Why have I been lying to myself and everyone around me? Who the fuck am I?

Then I stumbled…

I remember so much of my former life. Things I wasn’t sure I even want to remember, things I rarely even allow myself to think about. I have only been in counseling for a short while and she has been telling me about the positive aspects of making peace with your past. Granted, she is talking about distant past but I think that this is a concept that can be applied to any stage of my life. It has taken me this long to realize that my biggest form of defense has been to tuck my tail between my legs and run for my life when shit gets too real, realizing this I think sets the stage for stopping it.

The first part: “I loved you so much I couldn’t breathe” I used to tell her I could not breathe without her. I gave her so much power over myself. I loved too much. And all she had to do was tell me she missed me. It was like some code that just took every ounce of mental power away. Every time she left I knew that I deserved better, I knew that I was just a door mat with her, but she was like a drug to me. I think I told her that too…

Once that was completely over and I knew she was never coming back I let the withdrawal take over. I knew that I needed to detox and I did. But it took the dude to realize I did not detox long enough. In knowing that I never wanted to hurt that way again, I told myself that all women were hurtful, all women were the problem. If she could hurt me, all women can and will given half the chance. Every single relationship I had after her only affirmed that thought. With the last being the ultimate nail in the coffin of my sexual orientation. By the time I started talking to dude I was so convinced I would be alone forever that I was willing to talk to anyone. I just wanted to believe that I could be loved and someone could love me back. I wanted to believe that she was wrong; I’m not cold, I’m not unfeeling, I know how to show love.

It took all this time to admit to myself she was at least partially right. I am cold, to an extent. I am unfeeling sometimes. And I do have a hard time showing my feelings. The truth is that I have to hurt someone in order to show I have feelings. I just can’t do that. I can’t hurt someone in the ways that I have been hurt. Even if I know that my inaction is as hurtful if not more so. I look up at that blurb again, and I wonder…

I try not to think about how he feels about me. When we have been able to talk to each other openly and honestly, I dance around the subject while at the same time demanding truths from him. His truths are like daggers into my heart. He is me when I loved too much.

I catch myself wondering if she things of me, wondering if she stalks me. Does she think I am happy? Does she ever think of me? Does she ever remember?

I need to start dealing with my past, and that means a whole lot of unresolved shit that deals with her. I have to deal with it if I ever hope to move on with my life. I have to get to a point where I can talk about it without feeling like my heart is going to explode. I have to believe that she was not the one, and that by her NOT being the one there is a “ONE” out there for me. That pseudo happiness I experienced by being with her for so long; I have to believe that I can have that with someone real. I have to open myself up to it, I have to give it a chance. Maybe that is my problem, I haven’t tried to be open.

Well, 2016… I am willing to try. This is “new year, new me” crap. I can’t keep running (I am getting too old for that). I have to face the fears that pushed me to the place I am and I need to be honest and decide if this is where I belong or not. And damn it, if this is were I want to be then it is high time to start acting like it. If I don’t want what I have, than it is only fair to let it go so it has a chance too. I can’t keep pretending (I’m too old for that shit too). I don’t do resolutions, its too hard trying to stick with something while life happens. But I think if I try, well maybe that is ok.

As always ❤