A few weeks ago I cut myself for the first time in my adult life. Since then I cannot stop.

I'm not sure how and why it happened.

I am not even a teenager and I certainly don't have any serious history of hurting myself this way.

I have been experiencing a complex and multi-layered crisis for some time now. There is no way out - that's all I can/would like to say about it. I also have a reason to believe that I have been living with a mental health issue since as long as I can remember.

In any case; after a major fallout, all of a sudden I just grabbed a knife and made a nasty work of my lower arm. First time since I was very, very young.

I cannot describe it to you... The pain was like a hug - a sharp, overwhelming, all-consuming, comforting, terrible, terrible companion that soothed all my tortured, uncushioned nerve endings; the sore wounds of my very soul.

Yeah... I realize I am going all cheesy here... but what I describe is sadly accurate.

So I did it again - a few days later; directly following another emotional crisis. I was - yet again - in a completely altered state of mind.

I wish to make it very clear - I do NOT choose to do this! Rather it happens to someone that is physically me but whom I can barely recognise and relate to. Consequently - the person who does it is physically me but, for the life of me, I have no sense of continuity with them.

Well... by default, I have no sense of continuity with myself from one minute to the next one so that is no surprise.

However, I got hooked on, which is terrifying.

The pain is something I can trust and hold on to; like a life ring thrown to me.
It almost has a distinct shape, a personality.
I think I accept it in the place of the one I love...

I think pain loves me.

No one else loves me.

I realize how terrible it sounds.

ashpile