Therapy in Age 36

Part of me wants to stop therapy. I am 8 sessions in and I know that I need it. I had a “relapse” about 2 weeks ago. If you have read my stuff before you know it gets bad. This time around I used an ice cream scooper to push into my forearm so that I can have physical release of my emotional pain. It feels so good at the time. Then I went into my bedroom and grabbed an empty photo frame and squeezed it so hard that i shattered the glass. That felt good too.

The bruises I later had on my forearms were both beautiful and tragic. At the time that I do it, it feels so good. My therapist asked me why a blunt object and not a knife. I told her that the knife was too sleek, the cut too clean. I wanted something....bigger. I know how a knife would feel. Like a sting. I wanted soreness. I wanted something to push down into my body without actually breaking my skin. After you slice and the sting is gone, you’d have nothing. A scab. Itchiness from the scab. I have bruises. They can be sore and still hurt later.

Damn that is dark.

I know what triggered all that and at the ripe age of 36 I am still doing this shit. I was hoping hat I would be past all that, but I guess I am not. I am a lot better at recognizing the escalation, but sometimes I am not able to stave off the eruption. I just feel that I have gotten so lazy. I don’t want to so these sessions anymore. I don’t feel like talking anymore. I feel like the wind has gone out of me. What more can I say? What more is there that isn’t the same feelings over and over again? I feel like its a bad song on repeat. I want it gone, but depression doesn’t work like that. Its like diabetes or an addiction. You have to keep working on it. Right now I am in a slump where I don’t want to.

Last updated June 10, 2024