Trigger warning for description of self-harm.
I’ve tried so hard to be good to myself.
We all made that promise weeks ago. And we followed through for a good while. Long enough for the constant ridge of barely healed slashes above my left knee to attempt to become scars.
But the stress piles and piles.
Work is becoming too much with my demi-boss’s passive-aggressive bitchiness. This time she actually managed to be bitchy about my bronchitis and lack of ability to communicate verbally for most of the week. I have a feeling she’s going to drag me into another “you-need-to-shape-up” meeting with our department supervisor.
Most of me doesn’t give a shit. I’m not going to roll over this time. I’ve done nothing wrong or unprofessional. She’s the one creating fucking drama that isn’t there.
But my second stresser makes me want to roll over and take my lashings because I can’t afford to lose this job.
Shadow Dragon just told me yesterday that her landlord sent her a stern letter basically saying I can’t live here and must be out by the end of January.
Now, this change in situation could work out because Army is possibly about to have his lease broken (due to his roommates divorcing, not anything he’s responsible for) and he’s asked me to live with him again.
Again I’m torn. I’ve talked it all up to my mom and friends when they ask about how I feel about moving back in with Army. But truthfully….I’m not sure. My relationship with him has changed so drastically over the past two months that I’m scared to change it even further. I don’t want to tear down more walls. I can barely build them strong enough to keep him out.
I know I can’t be trusted to live alone. Look how badly I just backslid today, with just simple stressers and multiple sources of support. I spent a chunk of my evening chatting with Shadow Dragon and Puppy, which relaxed me at the time.
But once I’m alone in my room and the insomnia beast sets in….I spiral. Down, down, down.
I take a strange focused pleasure in tracing the lines of the scars, opening the same slashes from weeks ago. That focus and pleasure lasts until a soft jingle distracts me and Zoe noses closer.
She licks the thinly bleeding lines.
My heart breaks.
From my leg her tongue moves to my arm, my hand, my face. Then she settles her head firmly in my lap so I can’t bring my knee up to my hand holding the razor blade.
And all I can do is hate myself so hard, so deeply. How did someone so weak, broken, and selfish as me come to have such an angel of a dog to walk this path with me?
I don’t want to be here anymore.
And yet, when I look down into those golden eyes of devotion- I don’t want to be anywhere else.