Self-Loathing Masochist

Ever since hearing about my brother’s marital issues, I’ve fixated on my masochism. With the popularity of “50 Shades of Grey” and the semi-mainstreaming of BDSM, I’m probably one of a small number of people who meet the diagnostic criteria for Sexual Masochism Disorder.

DSM V:

SMD DSM V criteria.PNG

The purpose of my original blog, Masochist Musing, was to come to terms with my sexuality. I failed in that endeavor.That isn’t completely true, I accepted my bisexual tendencies, but not the masochism. I imported all the posts here; everything from 2013 and 2014 is from that original blog.

Right now, I want to cut to punish myself for being a freak. 

On the bright side, I’ve stayed awake all day

. dean supernatural facepalm1

Perhaps this shame resurgence isn’t just from thinking about my brother. My mom started bugging me about online dating as soon as work ended for the year. It would make sense that thinking about dating triggers both fantasies and fears of intimacy. 

Then again, it could just be my brain cycling. If I’m not cutting or actively eating disordered, I’m focusing on BDSM… Specifically, my self-hate related to it. *sigh*

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Murder Suicide

I wish I could cut and not leave scars.

Last night, my mind turned to the dark place I avoided since Wednesday.

Holy shit. I just had a horrifying thought! My parents came to visit. Maybe my parents are a trigger. Of course, correlation does not equal causation. There are other contributing factors like perhaps the increased medication dose I started last Monday broke through on Wednesday and last night I was alone and facing the prospect of a weekend by myself.

Regardless, I was suicidal and decided no one other than my mom would suffer from my death. I could not quite get myself to believe she would not feel incomprehensible sadness. Therefore, my mind turned to… murder-suicide. *feels sick to stomach and evil* I would kill myself before ever acting on that thought, if only to protect her!

On days like this where I’m wilding going from highs to lows, I feel as if my childhood insistence that I was truly evil was correct… That there is some unnamed darkness inside me and if I don’t hurt myself, I will hurt others. I’m terrified that I am capable of acting out. I’m afraid if I stop harming myself, the anger inside me will boil over and I will hurt others. Therefore, self-destruction helps everyone.

Supernatural_Dean_run form what is inside you

After that I realized Tuesday – Friday would be the perfect time because my mom is out of town. She left today, but I’m still house sitting until Monday night. Therefore, she would not have to deal with identifying my body or receiving a call from the police.

I would not do it at home. I’d do it somewhere she never goes because I don’t want her thinking of my body hanging from the basement rafters or in the grocery store parking lot.

Fuck. I don’t even know what happened. I was FINE Friday afternoon. I was fine after they came to visit, but then an hour later I started drifting. I don’t know why. I forgot 20 mg of my meds on Friday, but that shouldn’t have any immediate effect.

I got my putty in the mail. It is pretty awesome! I played with it a little bit and it helped, but not enough. I’m saying “screw it” and ordering binge food. I resisted binging for a while and purging for even longer, but binging will numb me and purging will both punish and exhaust me.

Exhaustion reminds me of a potential cause for the suicidal relapse. One theory about anti-depressants’ suicide risk is that it gives people with depression an energy boost, before it completely kicks in. As a result, they have enough energy to carry out a plan, whereas before the medication, they were too lethargic to do anything.

I can’t tell anyone because they’re quicker to hospitalize someone for homicidal urges than suicidal urges. I believe this will pass.

My class, assuming I am both alive and not in the hospital, starts a week from tomorrow. I am scared of failing.

Running from the past

At the moment, I’m extremely triggered, but it is my fault. Last night someone shared a post of 911 dispatchers’ stories. I knew I shouldn’t read them because there was an explicit trigger warning for people with suicidal ideation or PTSD. I wish I knew why I sometimes read stories I know are triggering like these snippets or new articles about child abuse. It is frustrating.

LeiaFacepalm

Many of the stories involved suicide and many more involved abuse. Last night it was triggering, yet I read more this morning. I don’t know why I continued reading the stories. They were compelling, but that isn’t justification and there was some other motivation behind my choice. Maybe I wanted to be triggered or maybe I wanted to read more about how I’d negatively alter a stranger’s life if I called 911 before suicide. It also made the parents’ pain too real. Often I convince myself I am doing everyone a favor by killing myself. I finally gave up on the stories. I don’t want to kill myself because of them. I want to cut because I feel guilty for thinking of hurting others and the graphic abuse stories made my mind wander to dark shadows from the past.

I think I’ll be okay. My blade is still in my car. I feel strong. My puppies are right next to me.

The work day went well. I was with the newer student who elopes a lot. I was with him during his first week, before my surgery, but not since then. I was miffed they let him be with someone other than Ashley since they’d previously told him she was his staff until he was safe an entire day. Regardless, he did well today. It was a half day for the kids though.

I have mixed feelings about how they handled a running student, but it was a tense situation and I wasn’t there. I just hope they didn’t accidently reinforce his elopement.

Ginny, my boss, and a bunch of others were involved. Therefore, they were back late to leave for lunch. I saw my boss in her office, but I assumed they were debriefing. I grabbed a Diet Coke and decided to read during lunch. I felt okay about that. I thought they’d want to talk about what happened and I don’t know, rest. Apparently, I think my presence is stressful? I heard them talking in the front of the building. When I heard their voices I started wanting to cut. I considered walking up there, especially after I heard Heather’s voice and I knew it wasn’t only administration people talking. I didn’t go to the front on the building because doubts ran through my head. “You’re not wanted. No one wants you. No one cares. They don’t even notice… They probably think you went with someone else. It isn’t personal… You’re still not wanted… I don’t want to bother them… Heather is talking. They’re not in a secret  meeting… It is too late now. It would be awkward to just waltz up there… You. Are. Not. Wanted.” So, I stayed. I wanted to cut and wanted to go out to my car, but I didn’t! I told myself, “No” and read my book. I had to keep making the right choice over and over again. Then Ginny texted me, saying I should join her and the O.T. therapist. At first, I said no. Then I realized she only mentioned the O.T. therapist. I asked if it was just them and she said it was only the 2 of them. That changed my mind. I wish I’d never invited Ashley and Heather to Wednesday lunches!! I don’t like how large the group has become and that is my fault because I invited them. I think I might be used to the new BCBA if Ashley and Heather weren’t with us because I might tolerate the group size and speak more. Nonetheless, I went with Ginny and the O.T. therapist. I had fun. Our afternoon meeting was okay. This time the conversation afterwards did not bore me. It was hilarious.

My mom is out tonight. Hopefully, I’ll feel better soon and work on the coping skills list and if I don’t feel better soon, hopefully I’ll use some coping skills!

Alive and Not Well

My day went better than expected. I cut as soon as I got to work, but I got to work on time and didn’t avoid it an extra 10 minutes (yesterday my boss said I could come in 10 minutes later because they kept me 10 minutes late) or call off. It was bad enough that is seeped through my jeans, a lot. If I realized how much it was bleeding though, I would’ve asked someone to cover my student so I could try to stop the bleeding. However, I didn’t noticed until it was too late. I thought it was just a small black spot, which could be anything. When I looked, I saw the stain was rusty red and the size of a mini Eggo waffle. For the second day in a row, I’m washing blood out of my clothes. *sigh*

 

I did well staying completely engaged with my student. I went to lunch despite feeling like I didn’t deserve to eat. Yay for Acting Opposite! I also invited Heather and Ashley to lunch. That took effort. I’m glad I went and that I invited them. Lunch was hilarious! It was also good bonding with those 2. Thankfully my boss didn’t mention the data thing. I was prepared to scratch through that entire meeting and swing by Home Depot as soon as 3:15 hit. However, I didn’t need to. Despite no mention of the data issue, I wanted to cut once I got off work, but I gave Ginny my blades and meds. A wave of dismay hit me when I remembered that I no longer had my implements. I considered buying more blades or taking apart of razor when I got home, but I decided I should at least TRY. I went to the trouble of giving her the tools; it is stupid to go buy more right away. So, I turned my air conditioning as cold as it would go and I turned the fan on as high as possible. Then I cranked my music up. I made it home and now I’m typing here.