Lately, my life has been pretty crazy.
Being in a new marriage, there’s been a lot of change, as expected, and we’re still adapting to it. Don’t get me wrong, its been a wonderful [almost] 4 months but I’m still greatly struggling with past issues, depression, and self harm.
My husband has been so supportive and helping as much as he can but he just doesn’t really understand. It’s been hard on him and I don’t expect it not to be. He sees me, his wife whom he loves; hurting herself and is at a loss for what to do. And I don’t blame him. If tables were turned, I also wouldn’t know what to do.
I grew up in a very conservative home. My parents taught me that showing emotions was bad. If I cried, I’d get punished. If I was sad, I’d get an earful about how so many others have it worse than I do. If I was too happy, I was told happiness does not last. So technically, I was supposed to act as if I were a robot.
My mother was a difficult person to live with. Growing up with 5 sisters, I was constantly being compared to them. It was always “you’re too fat,” or “why can’t you be smart like your other sisters,” even going as far as saying “you’re too short, no guy will like you” since I was the shortest one out of the bunch. What?? That one always got me because plenty of guys love short women!
Along with her emotional abuse, she was very physical towards us. If she was in a bad mood, she’d use whatever was closest to her to hit us with; shoe, belt, wooden spoons, her fist, etc. It was very traumatic.
My father on the other hand would just sit there and watch. He suffers from bipolar disorder, anxiety, depression, and has occasional suicide attempts. He was always so lost in his own world and couldn’t stand up for us. I hated him for years because of it.
The trauma didn’t stop there. I started cutting in 7th grade. I let male classmates use me for their pleasure, and I was constantly toying around with the idea of killing myself.
Then came high school. I was terribly bullied. It got so bad that I dropped out after the first semester of freshman year and was forced into online school. I hated my life. I hated myself. And the cutting got worse.. until about 2 years later.
During all of this time I was talking to Daniel, my now husband. He didn’t find out about the self harm until about 12th grade or so. When I did decide to tell him, he was very nice about it. He didn’t judge me or think I was completely disgusting for it, he just listened and accepted me for who I was. That helped a lot.
In 2013 I decided to join the military so the cutting had to stop. It was hard at first, 4+ years of self harm and suddenly having to stop? But I did it. For a bit.. early on this year I relapsed. Since then I’ve cut maybe 8 times? I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t want to stop..
Cutting myself keeps me from killing myself.
I’ve never said that out loud, it’s pretty terrifying.
I don’t want to stop because I’m scared. That has been the only way of dealing with my struggles for 6 years now. I contemplated seeing a therapist but I’m terrified of letting someone see my emotions. I’ve tried and I just end up shutting down.
So what do I do now?