I think I’m addicted to hurting myself. I can’t seem to stop. I’m getting so good at fighting off the darkness of my illness.
And yet. And yet.
I used to cut, to soil my skin with my pain. I fixed that, worked through it and it’s been years since I’ve thought about it.
Then came the cigarettes. That one was sneaky. I didn’t realize right away that I was hoping poisoning my lungs would take days off my life that I didn’t want. I quit for me and my love, and my family.
The eating problems have been haunting me all my life. A shadow clinging to me no matter how healthy I get. I’m working on that now.
But I always seem to find something, anything to self sabotage. Automatically. Without recognition.
I work hard in therapy and yet my brain does not care. It wants out. I know that I cant do anything obvious to hurt myself now.
But honestly I’m terrified of what will happen next. I can’t seem to stop wanting to punish myself for things that were never my fault. I did nothing wrong.
My brain doesn’t care. It tells me I deserve to suffer. I try to quiet this voice, but it’s always there.
Lingering in the back of my mind.