I killed a knife

Saturday night I broke my carbon steel carving knife, to be honest though it was either the knife or my arm. I must admit I was surprised though as I normally kill cushions, boxes and towels rather than knives so it is a first for me. 

Yes my arm is in a bit of a mess, yes I took action to minimise the damage so I didn't loose movement in my arm and hand (wouldn't be the first time) and no I am not fine with it. Some people go out get drunk and fall over to try and kill what is going on inside of them.  Me I use pain, always have done but really would rather not.

I am incredibly frustrated and angry, money is tighter than it has been for a very long time and I am going to be loosing the one consistent bit of support that I have had for a very long time now. I have fought to the bitter end over the hell that I have been through. I have got to this point with sheer determination, a tanker load of fight and an occasional bucket of hot chocolate.  I have gone through hell and kept on running to try and fix more damage than the average person will experience in several lifetimes.

How have I done it?  I have had no choice.  Hope is something that I have not been given the luxury of. I have and continue to be abandoned by people who should know better. Whatever happens now though I know I can hold my head up high.

Hard

I am not going to deny that I am very hard on myself, at points to quite an extreme. Someone else picked up this up so I thought I would write about it. I understand that for most people this could be quite off putting but I really have no choice on the matter.  If something goes wrong I have no one that I can really turn to and to be honest if there was I am not sure after everything that has gone on I would be able to turn to that person.

I know I am not going to be believed when I say this but I am so much better now with myself than I used to be. Previously I would not give myself any room for movement and the slightest mistake, emotion that I wasn’t happy with would result in a quite severe punishment.  Oh and failure to perform would result it a painful experience for me.  I had what could only be described as a special relationship with the coffee machine at work. I was so efficient that I could burn myself to the point of blistering myself just walking between floors. It doesn’t go down well with employers when they find out you are self harming to achieve performance, they like it even less when you point out that they never complained about your performance so why were they complaining about the methods you used to achieve them.

Now it may not seem like much for most people but when I buy a book that is me being nice to myself, when I go for breakfast on a Saturday that is me being nice to myself, the expensive chocolate I eat is me being nice to myself, I have a thing for very expensive linen, tickets to the ballet, buying stationery and yes even a plate of boiled potatoes is me being nice to myself.  I have managed to go from injuring myself several times a day to once a month if that. I ensure that at the weekends I try and make some dinners from scratch. I have hot chocolate nights and quite a liking for rice pudding.

There is a price for what I have seen, been through and experienced. I don’t just mean the physical damage which I mostly hide or the horrific images that are constantly on auto loop in my mind. I have no choice but to push myself harder and harder. There are days that I can only be described as vicious to myself. There are days that I have to go out and buy biscuits or treats for other people in the hope that someone will actually like me. I hate myself for it but without the proper support this is all that I have.  Support that from what I can see is never going to be forthcoming. 

I have had a taster of what happens when I stop and it scares me. Like everyone I have bills to pay and a roof to keep over my head. So until someone can come up with a solution that helps me I have to keep on pushing myself, I have to keep on being nasty and I have to make sure I don’t stop.  There isn’t a plan B for me!  Sitting and hoping that someone will come and help is just laughable and soul destroying, especially when it doesn’t happen. I have lost count of the number of times I have asked for help and been told no, had conditions put on that assistance or just been lied to.  My faith in people and humanity was taken a long time ago, so I have to work with what I have.

I am far nicer to myself now than I used to be but people need to realise that I am only human, far from perfect and trying the best that I can.