It has been one of those days where everything seems to bring up memories from the past. I stubbed my toe this morning, no big deal. I got into a minor traffic accident, no one was hurt and it wasn’t my fault because they hit me. I stepped on my cats tail and she cried out and it made me feel bad. I dropped a carton of eggs on the floor and Toy (my cat) started licking it and I yelled at her. I spent 4 hours trying to get a bug worked out of my website but I became so frustrated that I felt like an idiot for not realizing how simple the problem was at the beginning. Then I get on to S.F. and started reading others posts and it began to trigger thoughts which I thought had been gone for a long time. All I wanted to do was to motivate people to feel better and I ended up making myself feel worse.
Later I was cutting an apple into slices for a late night snack and I accidentally cut my finger. The instant I realized I cut it I purposely allowed myself to make the cut deeper and longer then it would have been. Bad thing is that I felt better afterwards. I felt good for punishing myself for having bad luck, stepping on my cats tail then yelling at her, and not being able to figure out a simple scripting error on my website.
The part that really scares me now is that I enjoyed the flood of sensation that the cut sent through my mind, and I am sitting here craving it. I have never been a cutter, but I have used cigarettes to burn myself before. I don’t smoke so I had to put my keys out of sight so that I wouldn’t be tempted to go buy a pack so I could punish myself. I poured water on all the kitchen matches so that they wouldn’t light, and then put the clothes iron outside.
I feel like such an idiot. What kind of adult person has to idiot proof their home from themselves. To make matters worse my cat who normally would be sharing my lap with my notebook computer seems to be mad at me for stepping on her tail. She’s off in another room.
I’m going to go into the chat room for a while, maybe I just need some company.
Later I was cutting an apple into slices for a late night snack and I accidentally cut my finger. The instant I realized I cut it I purposely allowed myself to make the cut deeper and longer then it would have been. Bad thing is that I felt better afterwards. I felt good for punishing myself for having bad luck, stepping on my cats tail then yelling at her, and not being able to figure out a simple scripting error on my website.
The part that really scares me now is that I enjoyed the flood of sensation that the cut sent through my mind, and I am sitting here craving it. I have never been a cutter, but I have used cigarettes to burn myself before. I don’t smoke so I had to put my keys out of sight so that I wouldn’t be tempted to go buy a pack so I could punish myself. I poured water on all the kitchen matches so that they wouldn’t light, and then put the clothes iron outside.
I feel like such an idiot. What kind of adult person has to idiot proof their home from themselves. To make matters worse my cat who normally would be sharing my lap with my notebook computer seems to be mad at me for stepping on her tail. She’s off in another room.
I’m going to go into the chat room for a while, maybe I just need some company.