I’ve been thinking a bit too much lately. I don’t want to plague you with my emotions, but self-harming has been a part of my life since childhood and because of that coping mechanism it’s obvious I run and hide when I see an emotion.
I used to be quite dramatic. I was afraid I’d choke on my food so I would chew it and then run to the trash can to spit it out. I was afraid to be alone with myself (my thoughts and feelings) so I’d cry at night not wanting to go to sleep. Night lights didn’t help me, only eating soft foods didn’t help me. I was afraid.
I’d punish myself. If I got in time out or did something wrong, I’d cry and throw a fit and then I’d only eat rice for dinner. I’d tell myself I needed to be good…and that the punishment of staying in my room wasn’t enough.
At eleven I had a major problem with stress and acne and scratching my forehead until it was one bloody mess.
At twelve my parents got divorced and I had my first full blown anxiety attack…which led to me completely loosing any sense of coping mechanism. I hated emotions…I didn’t want to feel. I wanted to be soulless. I wanted the darkness to wash over me. I knew suicide was never an option (a family member had ended their life that way and it was devastating)…throughout high school I battled with my existence. I was cold towards those closest too me. I used to show hatred instead of love…but as a Christian I showed apathy instead of love. I knew hatred towards others was dangerous.
So now, as a twenty-one year old person I’m still struggling. I have stopped self-harming but I still think about hurting myself. I still have panic disorder. I still get nervous about my emotions.
At this point I’ve probably scared a lot of you. I know it’s weird to think of the joy of childhood mixed with the angst that usually waits for the teenage years. I know it’s hard for me to think things were that way too. It wasn’t all bad, but this struggle made a lot of difference in my life. I struggled alone. I didn’t tell my family. I never shared it with friends. I didn’t tell my school. I only told the internet…and only recently.
My big worry is that my younger siblings will pick up my bad habits. They want to know what I struggle with. They have been acting out (complaining about stress) and questioning me: where are your friends, why do you…
*sigh* they call me clumsy, and get frustrated with the skirts of my anxiety. There are other things going on in my family. I feel awful for having so many emotions. I often wish I was a toddler again…the only time when I was sort of normal.
What I really want is to feel emotions in a healthy way. I find it so hard to explain why I NEED to write, why I NEED to garden, why I NEED to spend time with certain friends and avoid others…it’s because I NEED to feel emotions in healthy constructive ways. If I keep it all bottled up I get nervous, I feel guilty for having emotions, I try to find a way to get instant relief from the pain.
For me feelings come like storms. For somebody else it’s just: a word, a song, a touch, a moment, a little sensation…for me it’s way too much to handle.
I’m tired of people teasing me for being so emotionally *sensitive*. I’m not a hopeless romantic. I’m not a wannabe doctor or pre-school teacher. I’m not somebody who despises being alone. The thing that I don’t like is emotions…so how does that make me sensitive? I guess if you mean sensitive in the sense that if I take down the walls I’ve built around my fragile heart…all I have left is the menagerie of wild feelings.