I don’t want pity. Or anything. Actually, no. I do think it’s time for me to get some sort of help… but for the moment, I really just need to vent. So yeah. I’m currently writing this in notepad but I think it may get posted, just so I can re-read this and remember why I wrote this.

So I’ve known for a while that I’ve got a problem. It’s just… idk. I’ve always wanted to blame me, thinking I was just weak and couldn’t stop it. That I was weak, stupid, just not good enough to make it stop. That maybe I deserved to do this to myself.
But my mom sent me a care packet from a support group that deals with people who have the same kind of problem as I do… and IDK. At first I was so fucking pissed off. WHY would she send me that?! She’s so stupid. It made me feel so uncomfortable. But then I’ve started to read the contents… and, god. It’s as if I was reading the story of my life, as told by someone else who happenned to live inside my head. It made me feel scared as fuck, and kind of upset… but at the same time, RELIEVED. Does this mean there are actually more people with this? I’m not alone? I’m not a freak?

It’s so hard to write about this cause I’m at work and, just… I’ve read this material by bits because I start reading and it gets too much and I get emotional… but at the same time I’m so used to hiding this that it makes me embarassed and so I stop for a while and try to collect myself. But everything they say. Everything they’ve explained. It makes so much fucking sense.

You know what was the dealbreaker though? Something that I’ve known for a while but I was reluctant to accept. That this condition is not an indication of deeper issues or unresolved drama. I’ve been hiding under that facade for a while, telling myself that I do this because it’s better than cutting, or that it was the result of something else, that I was so fucked up that this was the lesser bad. That it was for the best. But I’ve known for a long time that is not true, that is an excuse to enable and validate this. I have been blessed with a fantastic life, a loving family, the ability of having absolutely everything I wanted, to live in peace, freely, and to do as I please. And I know that this is the one thing stopping me from fulfilling my life.

I hide behind this because I am so scared. And I’m scared because I hide behind this. And I’m finally willing to admit that I am the only one who can stop it. I think that after years and years and years I’ve accepted it but it’s still reaaaally hard for me to talk about it (I’m going to spare you the condition. It’s not abuse of anything, but it deals to some extent with self-harm).

I want to get better. I want to stop doing this to myself. I am seriously my own worst enemy. And I hate it. Hate it hate it hate it.

I’m kind of confused as to which option to follow though… medication or therapy. Probably both. But I feel so fucking stupid at therapy that idk, maybe medicine will give me the courage to try it? I need to talk to my mom. I’m still reluctant, because it still makes me feel so embarassed. About myself. But I know she just wants for me to get better.

Sigh.

I’m so confused. But at the same time, I’ve never been more clear about this. I just hope to fucking god I have the guts to keep going.