The cravings are bad today. I really want to bleed. I’m craving that more than anything else. It makes me feel so crazy. To want to carve myself up.
The urges are potent, and it takes great strength to resist.
I’m tired. I’m trying to change. I wonder if I’ll ever get to a point of contentedness. But even as I write it I know I’m on the correct path.
It’s been over a week since I had any pot and I’m hoping that once it clears my system I will be able to find a better job. I’d figure that would be my worst craving, but it’s not.
I’m fine with the absence of pot at this point, but the cravings for blood are so bad.
I think if it wasn’t for my family I’d have given in. But I know it hurts my wife and I don’t want to have to explain to my kids why I have so many scars on my feet.
It’s already going to be unavoidable. I really wanted to write a poem, but I am having bad writers block. All I can think is blood.
I should have gone to group today but I didn’t. I felt good this morning and so I stayed home. But now I want to be there.
I need someone to talk with but how many people want to talk about that? So I’m writing this journal instead. That’s what’s so magical about the group.
The ability to talk about these things that we spend so much time hiding. It’s amazing the impact it has.
Overall I think I’m doing better, but right at this moment I am in a dark place. This obsession has hold of me. I know that my wife reads what I write on commaful.
Which means she’ll read this journal. Then she’ll wait until I’m asleep, and check my feet for scars. I’m glad she does. It’s because she loves me.
And it’s what’s keeping the knife at bay right now. At some point I have to learn to not want to cut for me, but right now it’s my family that I’m holding it together for.
But that is why I’m in therapy. A big part is that I need to learn to love myself. But I kind of just feel like a loser at the moment. I won’t give in today though.
Because even as I write that I know it’s not true. I’m getting more and more self control every day. I’m learning to manage my emotions in ways that I couldn’t before.
It doesn’t help that I can’t get ahold of my psychiatrist, and my disability claim is being held up for a form he needs to complete. That is adding some serious stress.
I’m also wondering how long this process of healing will take, but I know that I can’t rush it. With that I will wrap up my journal. I think I’m going to work on getting my boat cleaned out.
Maybe I will feel better if I can get out on the water.