On Hitting Critical Mass

It's at times like this, right now, that I want to cut myself so badly. The emotions have built up for so long and I'm not sure how else to release them.

I've tried ignoring them. I've tried sorting them out. I've tried convincing myself of alternatives. I always do. It's all shit. I've not yet found a workable alternative.

It just builds up. And I'm at critical mass right now. Scarily soon after the last time in April. I'm sat here actually shaking right now, tingling, because I feel so full of unwanted emotions that I can't shake off. It needs to escape, it needs a release. I know that as soon as I let blood I'll feel that release, that calm, that knowledge that I'm still actually here, alive, and I'll fell better.

In all honesty I don't see the problem in cutting as long as it doesn't lead to suicide, which this obviously won't. Plus, fuck you, I like my scars - some people have tattoos, I have scars. And I think they look pretty. People always equate cutting with slashing your wrists and/or suicide which is only part of the reasoning, and only for some of people.

The only reason I try not to is because it upsets some people when they see new ones appear on my arms. I usually hide them until after the scabs go away but it's impractical to hide them for more than a week or two. And every now and then I cut my legs so it's easier to hide them but that doesn't provide the same release as my arms do. For some reason the closer proximity to my head triggers the release I require. As if it's more real.

They don't really care anyway. My various groups of friends (and what family I have) form a perfect example of social loafing - they all assume that I have closer friends that will be there for me. So they don't need to be. The result is that I'm always alone with no one to turn to when I'm feeling this way. And there are so many of those people who only 'care' when they notice something is out of place and when everything seems fine don't pay the slightest bit of attention. It doesn't work that way. It's not their fault, just the way things pan out.

I've written a longer post than intended because I thought I could defuse the urge to cut until later, or indeed not cut at all, by taking my mind off it. That has worked before. And I've tweeted my ass off tonight in a similar vain. But not this time. If I touch my arm, even a finger, I get a tingle because I'm ready to burst.

But frack it. To hell with the social norms that require me to hide the release I need. If I'm offered no other solution, accept the only one I have available to me. If that's the solution to the problem, however temporary, why not?