Taboo[?]

Dec
2008

Taboo[?]

I am quite new here; on this lesbianlifestyle.com thing.
I am not expecting instant gratification or fame or connection(s) here.
A friend of mine had a link on her blogspot and I followed it, granted because the idea seemed absolutely ingenious, and it is.

Topics of this month. Tattoos? Taboos? Tampons? Of course brought to you by the letter “T.” Because I’m new here, I wanted to bring the most personal topic (to me) of these three to the table as a way to introduce myself. That is certainly not to say that my menstrual cycle or tattoos are not personal, but my “taboo” topic of conversation reflects best upon who I am.

I realize that several kids grow up without an outlet in which to place their anger, depression, upset, and other feelings. I also realize that I am not the only kid who grew up self-injuring.
In the event that any kid begins the process of self-injuring/self-harm/self-mutilation/self-destruction, I know these kids feel, at that given time, that they’re the most depressed, that they’re alone, that they’ve been given no other means of expressing how they’re feeling.

I don’t actually remember how old I was when I began turning to cutting my arms up. I was either thirteen or fourteen the first time I picked up a pair of scissors and created cat scratches along my right arm; my left hand is my primary hand. Of course, as most medical journals will tell you, self-injuring releases endorphins and does all sorts of other things for your psychoses that ends up stabilizing you in the short-term view of things. Eventually you begin feeling unwell again and the process begins anew. You cut again and again and again…and it always feels better and better until it becomes a habit or a daily basis type of thing.
Since the age of thirteen or fourteen (I still cant’ figure which), I have been self-injuring. When I was fourteen, I was diagnosed with “Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD).” It seems that I became more psychotic and more manic around the age of seventeen at which point I was then diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder.

To this day I’m still unsure if I’m Bipolar. I like to think I’m only clinically forlorn.

My arms are like a map. They do not necessarily tell you where to go, but they tell you where I’ve been. I’m not sure if the scars will remain as prominent as they presently are, but they’re there and it’s difficult to miss them. When I brush my fingertips along my arms, I can feel all the stories jumping out to me.
I can tell you when each one happened, why it happened, and how it happened.
They are stories that I prefer to keep to myself but am always open to sharing if one chooses to be brave enough to ask.

My name is Stephanie, and I am a woman, a lesbian, a self-injurer, a story-teller, a lover, a friend, and someone who is only looking for better outlets.
I’m only praying that I am welcomed and accepted…

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8 Responses to Taboo[?]

Someone else posted about cutting recently. You’re not alone in this, as you probably know.

Cutting is a destructive, compulsive behavior and help is available. Check out http://www.selfinjury.com/. Talk to a therapist. If you are in the U.S., you can call 1-800-DONTCUT. There may even be a support group in your area.

I’ve also been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, among other things. I had my own destructive, compulsive behaviors. I eventually found my way out though getting involved with supportive groups of friends, allowing myself to be completely honest about my experiences and feelings, and becoming willing to change my actions and attitudes. It wasn’t an overnight change. It took a few years but my life today is dramatically more joyful and peaceful.

Your not bad because you have this condition. But change is an option if you want it.

Peace out,
Dharma Kelleher
http://www.dharmakelleher.com

Dharma Kelleher´s last blog post..The Opposite of Hate and Violence Isn’t Surrender

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by Dharma Kelleher on December 21st, 2008 at 11:16 AM

I was also a cutter as a young teenager. To this day I wonder what gave me the idea to carve up my arms and exactly why I did it. I bet it was for the endorphins, I never even thought of that. I also pierced my own ears like 10 times, probably for the same reason.

Along with some great feeling chemicals in my body, cutting came with some other consequences as well that I may or may not have wanted, especially attention. I got attention from my best friends (worry, concern, caring, and compassion) and I also generated panic in my mother. I think a lot of the reason I was cutting was for the attention it got me, especially the kind of attention where people are triggered to take care of me, cause that’s really all I wanted as a young person, someone to take care of me and love me no matter what.

I didn’t cut for very long (a few months, maybe?) before I voluntarily checked myself into the local hospital. I couldn’t really stand the way my mom was handling the situation, with her anger and confusion, and it seemed the best way to get away and to see if I had any other options. I hated being stuck in that place, though, so it was only a week or so before I was convincing doctors that I was all better and it was time to go home.

A best friend who found great compassion in her heart for my plight took an extra special liking to me and eventually, with a lot of other drama, she was my very first girlfriend. I know you’re not supposed to do this, but I let her save me from myself and my pain and my loneliness. She would cry all the time, huge tears, bawling for hours, and it was enough for me to feel relief from all the aching inside my own heart. I will always love her for that.

honey´s last blog post..Party Postponed

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by honey on December 21st, 2008 at 2:07 PM

Welcome. I hope you find TLL a place you can call home.

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by goldstardyke on December 21st, 2008 at 4:35 PM

Dharma – I realized someone had already posted about this issue; perhaps I felt a tad more at ease knowing someone else had already brought this one to the table.
And I thank the dear Lord every day that I’m not alone in this whole ordeal. “Ordeal.”

Honey – I wish I had a friend who could take a liking to me so I could feel a bit more supported and grounded, but I’m in this unusual spot in my life where I’m having to depend solely on my own (which I think might be good). I know people are necessary, but I would like to take a liking to myself and learn to love myself. Waiting for someone to come along just makes the process more painful, I think?

Goldstardyke – Thank you. :}

S.A. Scolnik´s last blog post..Apathy

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by S.A. Scolnik on December 21st, 2008 at 8:48 PM

You say that you are in an “unusual spot in my life where I’m having to depend solely on my own (which I think might be good).” As you are likely aware, bipolar disorder doesn’t spontaneously disappear and has to be managed like any other illness. I have asthma. I have to take an inhaler. I have to know when I’m having problems and treat myself as I’ve learned to manage my illness. Depending solely on your own is often how these things don’t end well…and frankly, I understand having scars that tell a story, but those same scars will make it difficult for you later in life with your employer, and they may not carry memories that you want to be reminded of as you age. Sometime in the future you may want to wear a short-sleeve shirt without being judged by others.

This isn’t a critique, it’s just a way of saying that I hope you get assistance. Self-injury, despite how common, is a difficult way of coping…

But, I think that just because you may have an illness doesn’t make you any different than anyone else. Heck, we all have things we have to cope with, and illnesses we may carry. Being healthy, on the other hand, is a choice you make to deal with the things you’ve got.

For both you and any future partner you may have, I hope you take the time to take care of yourself, and not rule out the people who may be able to help you the most.

Jul´s last blog post..I like Scarlett Johansson, but not quite this much.

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by Jul on December 22nd, 2008 at 9:36 AM

Jul – I’m twenty years old, I’ve had these scars for the past few years, and I’ve been self-injuring the past 6 years. When I meant “depending solely on my own,” I meant that along the lines of getting a career, supporting myself (in all aspects), moving out of my parents house, and finding stabilization within myself.

I have held several jobs over the past few years, and I have had judgment towards my self-injury/scars, but I’ve never been fired because of the issue (I wouldn’t have been hired in the first place).
Yes, the scars carry stories. You have no clue what stories they carry, and I suppose maybe you find it morbid on some level, but they are representations of my survival of my own demons. Even that sounds cliche, but again, they serve a purpose (TO ME).

I’m not sure why you’re comparing your asthma to my Bipolar Disorder seeing as they are two entirely different illnesses and give us both entirely different mindsets.

As far as getting help for my Bipolar Disorder, I was diagnosed both by my psychiatrist and psychologist when I was seventeen. I’m now under the care of three different doctors that I see regularly. It’s not a matter of “getting help” because I have had that since I was thirteen. It’s not about getting help.
I know I need these doctors, but I want to need myself, too.

And I wear short-sleeved shirts all the time. If you think I’m afraid of people’s judgments, you have far more to learn about me. I don’t care who sees them, I don’t care who asks about them, and I certainly do not care who judges me because of them.

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by S.A. Scolnik on December 22nd, 2008 at 1:47 PM