Another bit for the blog challenge, I suppose, or rather just because I felt like it – on Swift Expression’s blog
I have a problem. I’m depressed. We knew that. Going back to this whole gaping hole of gaping holes in my soul.
My girlfriend and I split up. We used to run a business together and live together. Now we still live together, when she’s here, which is not very often.
I have a gaping hole where she’s missing.
We used to watch telly together. Since she’s gone, I realise, I don’t like watching telly alone. And tend not to. It’s only fun with her by my side when we can aww and ahh at the storylines, and laugh, and get worked up about how such a stupid character is such a stupid character.
I really get no pleasure from watching it alone. So I don’t.
I don’t like being alone. Nor do I like being in large groups of people. I get stressed. I do go out with a group of friends but it’s not something I’d want to do all the time. The only reason I didn’t mind spending 24 / 7 with my girlfriend was because… I enjoyed her company that much, that we could, happily, spend that time together. For the most part. There are reasons why it didn’t work out obviously, but I won’t go into that.
It’s not like I don’t have stuff to do right now, I do, like get ready for Christmas, wrap presents, but I can’t be bothered. I’ve been extremely depressed all day.
Two further people, that were filling my hole, so to speak, have since… well, abandoned me. Both in a rather hurtful manner.
I’m angry. And I’m angry, because I’m hurt obviously.
When there is a void, that supermassive black hole… well, one thing that can fill it for me is, was self-harm.
I haven’t done it since I was a teenager, but today was the first time in a very long time it crossed my mind to. I haven’t. But there was a definite crossing of my mind.
I didn’t used to cut myself, I don’t like blood. But I would burn myself on lightbulbs. There was a very conveniently placed lit bathroom mirror in my childhood home that was very good for that.
Sometimes I find I’m so hurt that I can’t cry. Crying is good, releases tension, you feel better afterwards. But sometimes I don’t even feel able to cry. For me self-harm is like crying when you can’t cry. If that makes sense.
There is a lot of stigma about self-harming obviously. People who have never done it may not understand it. They may be horrified at the thought of you doing it.
Really, there’s nothing to be horrified about. It’s your body, you’re in full control. You’re not going to injure yourself more than you want. And like crying, afterwards you will feel better.
I very much doubt I will self-harm right now. If anything, I no longer have a strategically placed bathroom mirror. I suppose that’s a good thing.
I have to be honest, I think in a small way, writing this blog helps fill the hole in my soul, which is seeming so very prominent, no, that’s the wrong word, prominent sticks out doesn’t it? I don’t know… anyway, it’s very big, and it’s very noticeable, to me at least.
I don’t really know what else to do to fill it right now. Perhaps stare into space for a while.
Or perhaps I will break my own rule and force myself to watch something on the television. Alone.