Something Stupid

Gonna be honest, there's a pack of razor blades on my bed. Not the kind you shave your legs with, but the kind that you shave your face with that is perfect for self-harming. It's been a rough couple of days and all I want to do is go to town on my arms with the same intensity as Courtney Love going hard with a heroin-filled needle. I can't because of my work uniform, but the left side of my stomach is fair game. The only scars I have on my stomach are from when I self-harmed while driving and couldn't reach anyone else, so adding to the collection isn't going to have much of an effect. 

Or affect, who knows. 

People have had odd reactions to my self-harming over the years. By far my favourite one was my mother's "Go and cut your arms, do you know what that does to my son?" but there have been some other fun ones. 

Side note, after her saying crap like that I really do wonder why people are surprised that I want to go no contact. But you know. Families.

I've also had "You don't need that teenage emo shit" which was expected. I'll admit I am a card-carrying member of the emo crew, but my love for seeing myself bleed has nothing to do with me stealing a My Chemical Romance/ Simple Plan mix CD from the guy I had a crush on in 7th grade. 

Looking back, I also fancied the pants of his sister. I even wrote a story about her. How I ever thought I wasn't a raging half-homo I'll never know. 

The reason I love self-harming is because it makes me feel better. As I've said before just seeing that beautiful trickle of blood does things to me that even cocaine couldn't do. It's better than your best orgasm, and nothing will ever come close to how much I love it. 

As one of my stranger friends once said, adrenaline is one hell of a drug. 

What really irritates me is that the only reason people have a problem with my self-harming is that it makes them uncomfortable. Someone once complained about me at a previous job and I'm still trying to work out why they would do that. Nothing quite like potentially taking away someone's livelihood because you feel a bit icky. I've also had employers tell me I couldn't show my cuts at work. I worked in a student bar, I've seen someone be fingered while buying a jaeger bomb. But god forbid someone off their tits on MDMA should see a little scratch.

Most recently someone tell me not to do anything stupid, meaning my cutting, when I got fired from the job that was going to sponsor me for my PR. I wanted to respond with "Well I find your morbid obesity stupid honey" but instead I kept quiet. I settled with telling the fatty she wasn't allowed to judge me. Because nobody, especially someone who can't see their own feet with a house smells like deep-fried cat pee, is allowed to do that. 

Stay safe on the road

Jess