Old Habits Die Very Hard

I building a life where I am breaking my habits of self-harming. It is damned hard, for I have lived a lifetime of damaging myself.

Now I need live and feel. I need to not run away from myself.

When I nine, I wanted to throw myself out of my bedroom.

What saddened me remembering that time, I remember the calmness of knowing there was no hope. I was so young, and I was nihilist.

For much of my life I thought my only friend was death.

I did not want to die. I wanted everything to stop.

Stop knowing my mother refuses to see me.

Stop the groping my stepdad whilst I was near him.

Stop images of porn entering my nightmares.

Stop the headaches and stomach aches that follow me everywhere.

I wanted to end my pain I could not understand.

I wanted peace.

I wanted to be left alone.

Self- harm was the only thing that was private to me.

I would cut myself in silence in my bedroom. I cut to see blood, seeing blood reminded me that I was still alive.

I was alive, but I felt nothing. 

As the male violence increased, my self-destruction increased.

Coming from an upper-middle it was easy to be an alcoholic. We had wine and spirits in easy supply.

I found drink made me not care. I found spirits would deadened pain.

I like to be drunk, for my stepdad drink very little. I thought my drunkenness would disgust him. It would make him stop.

He fuck me anyway.

I started drinking when was about 12. It soon became a habit.

When I was prostituted, I would drink most of the time.

I would drink to stop the pain. I would drink trying to make it appear to a date. I would drink to stop me sleeping.

In the reality, I would drink because I hated the world I was trapped in.

Men did not care I was a drunk, they would rape and torture me anyhow.

I turn to overdosing. I wanted to destroy myself.

All I did was to wreck my liver.

My self-harming was a screaming that there must be more to life than being living porn to men.

My self-harming was an anger. My self-harming was the tears I could not cry.

My self-harming was my fighting for life.

Now, I don’t live with male violence, now I want and need to break my habits of self-harming.

I drink rarely now, and I will drink slowly. I do not want to be teetotal, instead I want to drink to enjoy it, not to run away.

I stopped overdosing many years ago.

But there are other habits that harder to stop.

I still want to cut myself. I feel it when I feel my emotions going numb. I want to cut when I see too much of the sexual violence I was forced to live.

I never want to cause too much damage or to die.

I just want let go of my frustrations. I want to learn how to cry. I want to feel that I am alive.

Cutting myself is letting out a silent scream.

I cannot stop my old habits of wanting paid sex as my way to self-harm.

When my PTSD is very bad, this habit festers in my mind. It is a huge battle to not go back towards using sex to kill myself.

I feel I am winning the fight to not do paid sex, but it is very hard.

I am proud that I am winning that battle.

All I need to say is very scary.

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3 responses to “Old Habits Die Very Hard

  1. “I am proud that I am winning that battle.”

    Yes.
    With each triumphant post.

    Rebecca: “I building a life where I am breaking my habits of self-harming.”

    🙂 Good for you.

    Like

  2. It is very, very hard to give up self-harming behaviour. I know because I used to starve myself and my sister used to cut herself. It feels as though you are in a dark pit of despair and you just need to do it. because you hate yourself so much. I respect you so much, Rebecca. For surviving all this. For being determined to break free. You are amazing sister. 🙂

    Like

  3. Rebecca, I know it’s difficult but I hope that someday you heal.

    I ca understand the psychology behind self-harming. Been there myself (even though it wasn’t as strong as your experience). The world outside hurts you so much that you harm yourself, as if it were your fault you were harmed, but it’s not. 😦

    When my PTSD is very bad, this habit festers in my mind. It is a huge battle to not go back towards using sex to kill myself.

    I feel I am winning the fight to not do paid sex, but it is very hard.

    I am proud that I am winning that battle.

    Yep, I’m glad that you are winning that battle. 🙂

    Like

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