I decided to finally post something about cutting. I'm not gonna get into tons of reasons why I did it. I may post a list of reasons at a later date, but not now. Up until almost 17 months ago, I had been a self-injurer from the age of about 11 or so. Cutting became my baby; my most loved method of self-harm. But, it started out as wrist banging, then punching walls, dripping hot wax on really sensitive skin, scratching, etc.
So, I'm gonna write a little story that details one episode of many from when I was in highschool. Just as a warning for those that may share my affinity for sharp objects, this story could be triggering.
She sits in class, bouncing her legs beneath the table and trying to concentrate. The teacher's words have become an annoying buzz in her ears; white noise that she can't shut out. She feels the agitation rising; it's been too long.
Raising her hand, she askes to be excused to the bathroom. Upon receiving permission, she practically bolts from the room.
Once in the bathroom her breathing relaxes, but only slightly. She looks in the mirrors that are over the sinks, but only for a moment. It's become so that she avoids looking at herself in the mirror at all costs. Just one more thing that would cause more pain.
She hears voices coming towards the bathroom so she rushes into a stall and quickly bolts the door. Digging in her pocket, her hand closes over the metal boxcutter. Once the door closes and the voices fade, out comes the razor and up goes the sleeve.
Her arm is covered in wounds in various stages of healing. She brings the razor up and begins the strokes that bring sweet relief. Making slashes on the unmarked flesh of her inner arms, slicing through semi-healed cuts, she watches the blood begin to flow.
Her breathing relaxes entirely and a calming peace flows through her like a warm light. Using toilet paper to wipe up the blood, she lowers her sleeve and heads back to class.
One more day; one more crisis averted for the time being.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Downtown Saint Paul
I hate downtown Saint Paul. I had to take the bus to my church's midweek service yesterday, which involves taking a bus downtown and then catching another bus into uptown. Let's just say I'm glad I left early.
I got downtown no problem. But, I couldn't for the life of me find the street that I needed to be on to catch my next bus. I must've walked about three miles up and down 6th street. I was supposed to catch the 21 bus on 6th st. and Jackson and I just couldn't find Jackson. Finally I started asking people, which in and of itself is scary, and that just added to the scariness of not knowing where the heck I was. It all turned out okay, though. I was at the transit station on 6th and Cedar (don't remember if it was Cedar St. or Cedar Ave.) and I saw it had a schedule for the 21. So I walk around a little more and I'm getting frustrated cuz I can't find where the 21 stops. Just as I turn around to go back into the transit station, I see the 21 coming down the street. Yay!! I was elated, to say the least. What an adventure.
Of course then, when I was on the way home, I got off the bus downtown again. The next bus I needed to catch didn't come for another 40 minutes so I, being the extremely intelligent and impatient person that I am, decided to start walking. I walk about two miles or so down Robert Street until I get to spot where I don't recognize anything. The bus took a little detour down Cesar Chavez street and I couldn't remember which way. But, instead of wandering around lost (it's about 11pm by this time), I decided to walk back on Robert the way I came until I get back to a bus stop. I got to the stop just as the bus was pulling up (thank you God!). Turns out I went the wrong way down Cesar Chavez. And, now I have a couple blisters on my feet. Happy happy joy joy.
Well, today, when I looked at my schedule again, it says 6th st. and Jackson/Robert. That makes me think that Jackson is the same as Robert St. But, rather than get ticked off, I'll just see the positive that I got exercise yesterday..... A LOT of exercise.
I got downtown no problem. But, I couldn't for the life of me find the street that I needed to be on to catch my next bus. I must've walked about three miles up and down 6th street. I was supposed to catch the 21 bus on 6th st. and Jackson and I just couldn't find Jackson. Finally I started asking people, which in and of itself is scary, and that just added to the scariness of not knowing where the heck I was. It all turned out okay, though. I was at the transit station on 6th and Cedar (don't remember if it was Cedar St. or Cedar Ave.) and I saw it had a schedule for the 21. So I walk around a little more and I'm getting frustrated cuz I can't find where the 21 stops. Just as I turn around to go back into the transit station, I see the 21 coming down the street. Yay!! I was elated, to say the least. What an adventure.
Of course then, when I was on the way home, I got off the bus downtown again. The next bus I needed to catch didn't come for another 40 minutes so I, being the extremely intelligent and impatient person that I am, decided to start walking. I walk about two miles or so down Robert Street until I get to spot where I don't recognize anything. The bus took a little detour down Cesar Chavez street and I couldn't remember which way. But, instead of wandering around lost (it's about 11pm by this time), I decided to walk back on Robert the way I came until I get back to a bus stop. I got to the stop just as the bus was pulling up (thank you God!). Turns out I went the wrong way down Cesar Chavez. And, now I have a couple blisters on my feet. Happy happy joy joy.
Well, today, when I looked at my schedule again, it says 6th st. and Jackson/Robert. That makes me think that Jackson is the same as Robert St. But, rather than get ticked off, I'll just see the positive that I got exercise yesterday..... A LOT of exercise.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Dante's Inferno test
I got this from my sister. I read Dante's Divine Comedy in highschool so I thought this'd be kinda interesting.
The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to Purgatory!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test
The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to Purgatory!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
| Level | Score |
|---|---|
| Purgatory (Repenting Believers) | Very High |
| Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) | Low |
| Level 2 (Lustful) | Moderate |
| Level 3 (Gluttonous) | High |
| Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) | Moderate |
| Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) | Moderate |
| Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) | Very Low |
| Level 7 (Violent) | Very High |
| Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) | Moderate |
| Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) | Very Low |
Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test
New place
Well, I've officially moved in to my sister's place in West Saint Paul. I'm still a bit freaked out just cuz this is quite a big change for me. I'm excited, though.
I'm spending today just kinda hanging out. I was gonna walk around and job hunt, but it's too cold out. I'm definitely going tomorrow, though, no matter the weather (unless it's raining of course) cuz I don't wanna get lazy here.
This morning was quite interesting. I don't have my bed set up in the basement yet due to the fact that my sister's guy friend Mario hasn't taken out the wet bar. So anyway, I slept on the couch. My two nieces have to get up at about 6:00am so the oldest can go to school, the youngest to day care, and my sister to work. I'm a light sleeper anyway so I was vaguely aware that they were up. But, at roughly 6:30, my youngest niece Gia, who'll be 3 years old in August, runs into the living room yelling, "Auntie Nikki, Auntie Nikki wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" She's lucky she's so adorable otherwise I might've had to be a little miffed. :)
My sister gets off work at 4pm and she then picks up her kids, brings them home to feed them quick, then takes them over to a friend's while she's in school in the evenings. I wasn't planning on doing anything much tonight, and Tina (my sister) knew that, but didn't wanna bother me with watching her kids even though Kyla (pronounced Kay-la) was practically begging to stay here tonight. Her regular sitter backed out at the last minute this afternoon so, after Mario telling her to call me and her other sitter telling her not to, that she'd watch the girls, Tina called and asked how I felt about it. I told her I would. After all, like I said, I didn't have any plans and I'm not really gonna be here a whole lot this weekend to see 'em. So...yeah. We'll probably just hang out, order pizza, and watch some movies.
Well, I think I'm gonna hook up my XBox and liquify my brain a bit.
dreamer
I'm spending today just kinda hanging out. I was gonna walk around and job hunt, but it's too cold out. I'm definitely going tomorrow, though, no matter the weather (unless it's raining of course) cuz I don't wanna get lazy here.
This morning was quite interesting. I don't have my bed set up in the basement yet due to the fact that my sister's guy friend Mario hasn't taken out the wet bar. So anyway, I slept on the couch. My two nieces have to get up at about 6:00am so the oldest can go to school, the youngest to day care, and my sister to work. I'm a light sleeper anyway so I was vaguely aware that they were up. But, at roughly 6:30, my youngest niece Gia, who'll be 3 years old in August, runs into the living room yelling, "Auntie Nikki, Auntie Nikki wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" She's lucky she's so adorable otherwise I might've had to be a little miffed. :)
My sister gets off work at 4pm and she then picks up her kids, brings them home to feed them quick, then takes them over to a friend's while she's in school in the evenings. I wasn't planning on doing anything much tonight, and Tina (my sister) knew that, but didn't wanna bother me with watching her kids even though Kyla (pronounced Kay-la) was practically begging to stay here tonight. Her regular sitter backed out at the last minute this afternoon so, after Mario telling her to call me and her other sitter telling her not to, that she'd watch the girls, Tina called and asked how I felt about it. I told her I would. After all, like I said, I didn't have any plans and I'm not really gonna be here a whole lot this weekend to see 'em. So...yeah. We'll probably just hang out, order pizza, and watch some movies.
Well, I think I'm gonna hook up my XBox and liquify my brain a bit.
dreamer
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Finally
Okay, so I know I haven't posted in a while. I know it's actually only been about two weeks, but it feels a LOT longer.
I've been doing this Celebrate Recovery thing for a while now. Wednesday nights isn't too big of a deal for me. By that I mean I don't have too much of a freak out before or afterward. I don't mind sharing. I even don't mind crying there a whole lot. But Saturday step group is a different story.
So, I don't recall if I've posted much on this before, but Wednesday night is more of a time to tell people how your week has been going and it's a bit more laid back. There's a time of worship music first, then a speaker (either testimony or a talk on a part of whatever step we're on), then we break up into guys and girls and have our tiny groups. But on Saturday is when we dig into each of the twelve steps. The workbooks we're going through have like three different lessons for each step and three steps to a book. There's usually about 6-10 questions for each lesson.
This past Saturday, about midway through the lesson, I started feeling pretty anxious about all the honest sharing that was going on. Not that I had a problem with anyone else, but it was more of a case of me not wanting to deal with my own stuff.
We finished group with each of us praying about our own recovery. I prayed that I wouldn't run and that God would give me the strength to face all this again. Y'see, I started Celebrate Recovery, but dropped it after step 5. So now, I get to do this all over again. :) Boy, I can't wait!
So, yeah. By Saturday evening I was just overwhelmed by anxiety. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to cry my eyes out or punch someone. I mean, that in and of itself isn't a brand new experience for me, but hey. Honestly, I don't wanna do this. I ranted to a friend on the phone for about a half hour, alternately crying uncontrollably and cursing a blue streak...and sometimes doing both at once (trust me, not a pretty sight). I'm scared and hurting and feeling very alone.
But through all this, as much as I don't wanna acknowledge it, God has my back. I left a voicemail message for another friend, mid freak-out Saturday night. When she returned my message she said a lot that comforted me, but nothing more important that "God is close to the brokenhearted". I can still feel emotion well up in my throat when I think about that. Maybe, if I can just hold onto that...that God is close to me in my brokenheartedness (is that a word?), maybe...just maybe...I can get through this.
dreamer
I've been doing this Celebrate Recovery thing for a while now. Wednesday nights isn't too big of a deal for me. By that I mean I don't have too much of a freak out before or afterward. I don't mind sharing. I even don't mind crying there a whole lot. But Saturday step group is a different story.
So, I don't recall if I've posted much on this before, but Wednesday night is more of a time to tell people how your week has been going and it's a bit more laid back. There's a time of worship music first, then a speaker (either testimony or a talk on a part of whatever step we're on), then we break up into guys and girls and have our tiny groups. But on Saturday is when we dig into each of the twelve steps. The workbooks we're going through have like three different lessons for each step and three steps to a book. There's usually about 6-10 questions for each lesson.
This past Saturday, about midway through the lesson, I started feeling pretty anxious about all the honest sharing that was going on. Not that I had a problem with anyone else, but it was more of a case of me not wanting to deal with my own stuff.
We finished group with each of us praying about our own recovery. I prayed that I wouldn't run and that God would give me the strength to face all this again. Y'see, I started Celebrate Recovery, but dropped it after step 5. So now, I get to do this all over again. :) Boy, I can't wait!
So, yeah. By Saturday evening I was just overwhelmed by anxiety. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to cry my eyes out or punch someone. I mean, that in and of itself isn't a brand new experience for me, but hey. Honestly, I don't wanna do this. I ranted to a friend on the phone for about a half hour, alternately crying uncontrollably and cursing a blue streak...and sometimes doing both at once (trust me, not a pretty sight). I'm scared and hurting and feeling very alone.
But through all this, as much as I don't wanna acknowledge it, God has my back. I left a voicemail message for another friend, mid freak-out Saturday night. When she returned my message she said a lot that comforted me, but nothing more important that "God is close to the brokenhearted". I can still feel emotion well up in my throat when I think about that. Maybe, if I can just hold onto that...that God is close to me in my brokenheartedness (is that a word?), maybe...just maybe...I can get through this.
dreamer
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)