I’m having trouble remembering why I stopped cutting and purging.
I mean, I remember intellectually how bad things have gotten before with the self-destructive stuff, but I feel like I could stop this time. Even though that’s what I’ve told myself every other time too, and it never quite worked that way.
I guess I just agree with what Amanda wrote here the other day. It won’t hurt anybody but me/us, and self-destructing is the only thing that stops the flashbacks and numbs the terror and depression.
I’m lucky, though, that at least my therapist gets it. I told her how bad the urges have been and how nothing else works.
“Well, it’s your right,” she said, “but I hope you never do it again.”
It was such a relief: it’s your right. I’ve spent years looking for someone who understood that, who wouldn’t lock me up and treat me like an adult who’s coping the only way she knows how.
Having the choice to self-destruct somehow makes it easier not to–having the choice makes it easier to hang on without doing something. Unless you have the choice to destroy yourself, you can’t choose to live.