I am a woman, mother, professional and entrepreneur. Who self harms. Only a handful of people know about my self harming, and most of them only know in their professional capacity. They know it takes the form of cutting my arm with a knife. Nowadays. But I don't remember a time when I did not harm myself.
It has always been my limbs - whether or not that has any significance, I don't know. When I was 4 or 5, I used to pick at cuts and scabs I had and try to hide them from my mum. When I didn't have any cuts, I remember being extremely agitated. I learned that I got some relief from putting my hands and arms into a sink full of scalding water and holding them there until the sting went away. By the time I was about 7 or 8, I was making cuts on my arms and legs by scratching the same area over and over until it burned. I learned that would form a light scab within 2 or 3 days, and would be a great "picker" if I waited another 2 or 3 days after that. That cut would then keep me going for maybe a month.
I was in my 20s before I plucked up the courage to cut myself using a knife. And I will never forget the rush. All the pain, frustration, anger and self-loathing that coursed about inside me, rendering me unable to think straight about anything, could escape through the openings I made with my knife. And I could think again. And get on with my work. And sleep. And breathe. Function. It was an indescribable relief.
Of course I figured this was not a beneficial course of behaviour - I'm smarter than you might be thinking thus far! I was advised in therapy to let my feelings etc out my mouth - a ready made hole I apparently already have for that purpose. I went over 2 years without cutting myself. Then, amid a very difficult and turbulent relationship break-up, I started again. I have now made it 2 or 3 months. But yet I find that whenever my depression is really black, or I am feeling overwhelmed with life, or I need someone to talk to, I am reaching for the very thing that caused me so much damage in the past. To my great surprise, it is not the small, black-handled knife I keep at the back of the cutlery drawer.
Instead, my new weapon of choice is the man I broke up with. The same man who, unbeknown to me for about 18 months, kept in regular contact with prostitutes throughout the time we were together. Made arrangements to meet them. Organised three-somes. Texted them regularly throughout his working day. Used online pornography and masturbation "excessively" (his word, not mine). Phoned chat lines. Spent huge amounts of money on designer clothes he couldn't afford, while borrowing from me to pay his rent and other bills. Lied to me about his family and his background. Lied continually to try to cover what was left of his ass when I started to find all this stuff out. In short, the one living person who has caused me more hurt and pain than any knife ever has.
I grew up in a house where domestic violence was a way of life. I was never physically abused, but I saw it happen to my mum and lived in fear. Constantly. And I swore I would never take that from any man when I was grown up. I determined that any man who EVER so much as lifted his hand to me would die with it still up. And if I EVER felt threatened, I would leave. I would never again live in fear. And I would never be "one of those women" who keep going back because of "love".
And now here I am. The only physical harm that has ever been inflicted on me has been at my own hand. And the worst mental and emotional pain has been inflicted on me by a man. Who I still love. And have given too many "second chances" to. And still look to. I am now facing the realisation that my self-harming issues may extend far beyond cutting, because I now see repeated patterns of behaviour in my life that result in pain and nasty wounds for me. And they don't involve knives. Or cuts. Or blood. And none of them appear logical or rational in the slightest.
Unfortunately, I don't think they involve a prescription either. Or any other easy answer. But I want to stop hurting myself. I really do. So I have told the man I love that I need to have no contact with him becasue it is harming me. And I am going to take some time for me. To heal. And focus on my own life. And my own recovery. I guess that will have to be my start. My start at a new way of coping. That hopefully will be scar free.