This was supposed to be a light hearted post about my continued culinary efforts. Of successful family dinners and blossoming flirtations. Instead, it’s a post in which I confess to falling off the self harm wagon.
I cut myself four days ago. Six small slashes in the same spot as I always cut. If you asked me what set me off, I don’t have one specific answer. It seems to be a mixture of lots of things making me feel overwhelmed. It’s my migraines, my finances, my relationships. It’s stress at work and not sleeping well. It’s not taking proper care of myself and mean girls. It’s memories of my ex fiancee being flung at me from seemingly every direction. I’ve contacted my psychiatrist and for now, we aren’t overly concerned. As soon as I cut, I was disgusted with myself and have had no urges since then. But one thing I try to be on my blog is real. If I’m failing, you know about it. I’m hoping my blogosphere friends have some prayers and good wishes for me. I know I’ll get through this difficult time, but every relapse into depression and self harm leaves me feeling a little… less. Like there isn’t as much strength within me as I thought.
To anyone who may be in the same boat as myself: we will survive this. We’ve got to batten down the hatches and ride out the storm for a while, but we will get to smooth seas once again.