Self injury and OCD are a bad combination
I don't want to go to sleep because I don't want to wake up
How did I get here
How do I get out

Yes

It's easy
It's easy to just fake it... even though it eats away at me to do it
It's easy to give in to giving up

No

I'm miserable
I'm lonely
I hate myself
I don't feel like I want to stay here
I need to be right in myself before I can be with someone else

I

just want to be alone
want to be by myself
want all this to end

Super huge catch up post.

Today was possibly the worst day I've had in a long time.
I'm doing a PhD which I have been awarded a scholarship for.
I'm also teaching at University.
I was asked to guest lecture the third year students on their final project, as I've been through it as a student and a teacher.

For the first time in my life, I had a panic attack in a group situation.
I sat down in the classroom while I was waiting for the other lecturers (the same people who taught me, and I've worked alongside for the last 4 years) to finish the stuff they needed to go through, then it was my turn to talk. I got my usual nerves, excitement, anxiety, nothing that's ever been so bad that I can't just suck it up and push through it. But for some reason this time it just got out of control. I'd already given the exact same lecture about an hour beforehand, but for some reason, I couldn't handle this one.

Beyond the usual nervousness / anxiety / shakiness, I started to shake really badly (visibly) and couldn't calm down my breathing. I started to feel light headed and dizzy (like I might pass out) and when that didn't pass within a minute I knew I had to get out of that room. I just walked out on a class I was supposed to guest lecture. I was able to send one of the colleagues a sms saying I had to leave cause I was having a panic attack, then I think I just walked around the campus for about an hour trying to calm myself down. He came out looking for me, to see if I was ok, which was good cause it gave me a chance to explain myself, but I was still very stressed and shaky... I don't remember much detail. But he seemed genuinely worried, and tried to cheer me up a bit.

Now all I can think is that after 4 years of study, teaching and working my ass off to get where I am, is that all now completely useless to me because I can't even stand up in front of a class and talk? Has that couple of minutes of me not being able to hold my shit together just put my entire career in jeapordy. I'm still in a bit of a panic mode... some 12 hours later...

I know I have nothing to worry about, I'm a good teacher, I'm good at what I do. But I'm still anxious and that thought just keeps popping into my head.

As much as I like to throw myself in at the deep end, and constantly push myself outside my comfort zone... I think I need to take a step back and just stop for a little bit.

good

it's nice to be loved
connection
laughing
cuddles
closeness
not alone
feeling like i could share my life
awesome sex
drugs & booze
friends


bad

loss of independence
no alone time
drugs & booze
can't help but feel pessimistic about it


don't want to be the rebound girl
need to wait a little longer
time to be honest with myself
no more hiding and being scared

would i rather sit back and wonder and constantly second guess?
or should I just take a leap of faith and see where it takes me?

I've been waiting for something like this for so long.
I finally found it in you. Everything I had hoped for.
Someone I feel I can open up to.
For the first time in 6 years.
For a moment I believed.
But I can't anymore.

I can't deal with this, it's too much.
I know I don't deserve it.
It's way to complicated.
I'll just run away.

I love you.
I'll admit it.
And never again.
That's the turning point.

It's my own stupid fault for getting all caught up in this shit.
I could have chosen to stay out of it, or at least detached.

( Please don't be disappointed in me... )

I've been so good, no cutting for a few weeks.
But I have been waiting for today.
I made the mistake of promising someone I'd try and stop.
Now I feel so guilty, and I haven't even done anything yet.
I feel bad enough about all the crap i've been eating this week.
I'm sitting right on my trigger weight and I can't stand it.

I'll never be anything special.
I have nothing in comparison.
Why would anyone want me.
Just leave me alone.

So I've come to the conclusion that I have issues with trust and honesty. Not that I'm dishonest, I just don't deal with letting my honest feelings out. I feel like I can't trust anyone with how I feel because I fear that I will be rejected or ridiculed, or that they wont understand. Then again I have a hard time understanding what I feel, let alone being able to put it into words. Communication is definitely something I struggle with. Day to day small talk and friendly conversation isn't too much of an issue, but when it comes to anything about myself I tend to not know what to say. I guess part of it is that I don't think that what I feel is right, like I shouldn't feel the way I do. And besides that who really cares anyway. No-one needs to know the inner workings that are me, damn I don't really know. This only becomes an issue when I realise that there are people who want to know these things about me. I trust them enough to want to tell them, but I don't know how. I can't find words for the emotions I want to get across. I can't figure out how to say what I feel without sounding like an idiot.

Ramble ramble ramble.

On a lighter note I had a killer weekend / pre weekend. From my vague memory I shall tell the story the best I can.

THURSDAY
All started on Thursday night with the usual idea of going out to next for a night full of drinking and debauchery. This then turned into pre drinks at R+V's followed by getting a lift into the city and much drinking and debauchery along the way. Arrive at next, drink more and wait around for A+S. In the mean time me and V can't keep our hands off each other and end up in a huge make out session which involved grinding up against each other one minute, then pushing and slapping each other around and pulling each others hair the next, then back to the grinding. I must say the looks on the faces of the many people watching were quite amusing. Eventually A+S rocked up and there was more drinking followed by half a pigeon. Dear lord, then it becomes a little blurry... but I do very intensely remember dancing on the stage with V standing before me, I pulled her hair and ordered her to her knees... quite a few times... and then again with the grinding / fighting. Many hours passed, way too many cigarettes were smoked and eventually I couldn't handle all the people and the music and lights and decided it was time to head home.
The taxi ride back to my place was fucking intense. Apart from the fact we were all tremendously off guts, R started teasing me. Naughtiness was had in the taxi... I don't remember much though... got home *BLANK* whipping and biting *BLANK* insane sex *BLANK* sleep...

FRIDAY
After a few hours of useless pigeon sleep, it was decided that we should pay a visit to A+S. Upon walking through the door who did I spy but my favourite ginger ninja! My god it's been years. So we caught up and had a big cuddle. Then there was booze, then beach. I got quite a few stares from everyone that day, although it was probably due to the black and blue bruises covering my legs and ass and to a lesser extent every where else on me. Beach was good, there was booze and bread shoes, then back to A's for more drinks, some bed moshing and then a giggling fit that felt like I was dying. Sleep, more useless half pigeoned sleep.

SATURDAY
Wake up, time for work, back to my place, i have no shoes, go get shoes, off to work... WORK... post work... back to V+R's. Pre-drinks. Much giggles, and time to head back into the city. DV8 was shit... never been there before and know I know why. Although I didn't have to fight anyone for a podium to dance on which was nice. Much drinks... fuck DV8! More pigeons! Another half on the way to Bang... dear lordy... off guts again. Danced my ass off on a podium again for a while. Tried to get Veg to play a song for me, but he wouldn't. So I went round through the back and into the DJ booth and had a chat and a hug. Can't stand still, more podium! Danced my ass off. Ended up at the bar with Veg having shots, then round the back again and chatting and smoking out the window cause I was too lazy to go down stairs. Showed him my bruises from R+V, then he added one to the collection... back room bj followed... and then I had to go find R+V. Found them downstairs smoking, R was asking everyone he came across if they fully got into bread shoes. V was chatting with hippies. There was much off guts random chatter and it was decided that home was a good option. Taxi ride was once again very naughty. R was teasing the shit out of me, running his nails up my legs and biting my arms. For some reason i thought I'd play. With a huge cheeky grin on my face I asked him if that was all he had? He scratched my leg harder this time. Once again I smiled at him with my cheeky grin. He ran his nail up my leg, drawing blood, and again across my leg. I quivered and moaned... (this is turning into a really badly written smut story eh?) He bit me hard on the shoulder, drawing blood again. That's when everything gets a little blury again. Somehow arrived back at my place. There was much relief at taking off my boots, V was hungry so we started cooking me gorang... then me and V were huddled naked in the corner being whipped by R. I was in tears within no time at all, R was worried, but I assured him I was alright. Me and V took turns for what could have been 10 minutes, could have been an hour. Then we moved to the couch. There was more spanking with spiky belts and wristbands... and hot wax... R tried to make me spank V but I couldn't, so he beat her. I cried. Then he beat me, while she held my hand. Time passed and soon we were all cuddled up on the bed, smiling from ear to ear. Then we all fucked for hours until our bodies and minds gave in and we slept.

SUNDAY
Once again useless pigeon sleep. Most of Sunday was spent laying on my couch watching cartoons and giggling at GI Joe overdubs, there was Chinese food for dinner, more cartoons and then lots of cuddles and busted sleep.

MONDAY
Headed back to V+R's. Me and V were still in our mini skirts from the weekends worth of partying. The looks we got as we limped around. By now I was black from head to toe. My legs being the most obvious. One bruise wrapped almost half the way around my leg. Someone gave me a triple take when we were walking to the station... such good value. When we changed trains at Richmond we happened upon two Police officers who just shook their heads and muttered something along the lines of 'why do people put up with that'. Finally made it back to V+R's, more cartoons, food, then sleep.

TUESDAY
After some more munted sleep there was chain smoking... followed by a Mortal Kombat showdown between me and R, and also a Street fighter showdown. V went to the beach with Lunchie. Anime was watched and lots of cuddles had. Me and R dropped by A's late in the afternoon to pick up some stuff we left behind. Then back to my place. Which is where my story ends, because R left and I fell asleep on the couch watching Spongebob Squarepants.

I know I missed a whole lot of shit in there.... but my memory is so patchy, pigeons and booze do that. Now if only i could learn my lesson and not do it again... but it was fully heaps much too fun. I hate ducks, but I love cinnamon.

*posted on cuttingimage*

i've been lurking for a few weeks now. thought it was about time i posted something. i'm bad at introductions so i'll just keep it short. i'm 23. started cutting when i was 13. by 16 it was a daily occurrence. when i turned 18 i stopped. there was the odd scratch or bruise here and there, but nothing like it used to be. That lasted up until the start of this year. Had some pretty stressful stuff to deal with and scratched a few times. But in the last couple of months I've been falling back into old habits. I should have never bought myself a new scalpel. I had just gotten to the stage where my scars were faded enough i could not worry about people seeing them unless they took a good look. Now it's a really strange feeling to have to hide my arms again. Once again always having an excuse ready in the back of my mind. It's strange to see new cuts over old scars, I feel like I've betrayed myself, trying to cover old scars with new ones. Actually there's the story of my life right there. I dunno what I hope to achieve out of posting this here, maybe just knowing that i can post here and have people read it and not be shocked or lost for words. I apologize for starting out with such a depressing long rambling post. I cut last night. Felt like sharing these.

( triggering )

why do i even bother
despite my best attempts
i still follow this path
of total self destruction

feeling a bit emo today. tired, empty and lonely. i need some loving. wish i had someone to cuddle.
got too many things to think about at the moment and too much time on my hands to spend doing my head in over them.
people are beginning to shit me up the wall. maybe it's less about the people and more about my attitude towards them.
i'm just getting sick of being used. It feels like people only want to talk to me when i can do something for them.