Harm and Power

Posted: August 1, 2012 in Bipolar
Tags: , , , ,

As I write this blog, anxiety tends to rule what I expose about myself. I am in constant self-preservation mode.  That said, I’m about to take a big, scary step.

The world has a plethora of afflictions.  Some afflictions are self-imposed, while others are forced upon the unfortunate.  I believe that people can overcome these bouts of  afflictions if they have the will and the means available.

At, 15, I was already well burdened with both types of afflictions.  I was still alive after being beaten, molested, suffering mental illness and an identity crisis.

I was alive in the sense that my heart was still beating.  My mind was dead and alive depending on how my world treated me.  Self injury was one of my coping mechanisms.

Pulling my hair out by the root was low-level self harm in my mind.  Applying a hot curling iron to my wrist meant I didn’t want to die that day, but it was in my head.

Putting my hands in hot water until it hurt, was yet another way to grasp control. Cutting my thigh with a razor was the most effective way of releasing my stress.

My obsession with being wanted by boys was my worst affliction.  Just like my self-injury, my symbiotic love obsessions were a means of control for me.  Hurting myself and others made me feel in control and powerful.  The farther I took it, the bigger the high.

The downside is that I feared going to hell.  I was convinced that I was damned.  Whenever I did something I knew was wrong, I panicked.  I thought if I died, I would suffer in Dante’s Inferno forever.

Imagine having this internal storm brewing within you and still trying to be a good daughter, student and whatever else was required.  It wasn’t like that every day, but as I said before, my manic monster stalked me.  I just didn’t have a name for him.

Steven was the flame I couldn’t resist for many years.  I would have given my soul to be with him forever.  As I look back today, I have no idea why I felt this way.  When we finally broke-up, he dropped the hammer on me.

Predictably,  I became suicidal.  Fortunately, I had friends that talked me out of it.  My next challenge was going to put yet another spin on my bipolar life.

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