Work Text:
I relapsed
Again.
--time skip 2 weeks ago--
I boarded the plain with my cousin, to visit my grandpa in Spain. Dare I say I was super duper hyped ?!
Well I definitely let my hopes get the best of me. I won't go into super duper detail cause weh I'm not in the mood to retell an entire week.
But I can say, it was horrible.
I hated every second of it, I was just used as a maid by both (my cousin and grandpa). I spent every waking second with cleaning and managing the daily tasks, the only breaks where no one was bothering me or wanted smth from me was when I would go out on a "walk" so I could smoke my cigarettes. And even in those moments I still feelt stressed and tired, I so often just wanted to stay outside and just not return back into the apartment.
The more days passed the more feed up I got with the situation, but I couldn't allow myself to crack and cry and scream. I had to pull through that hellish week, while constantly being told I'm annoying, lazy and self centered.
I was constantly occupied doing smth for my grandpa or cousin to the point that I wasn't able to wash my hair for the entire stay.
Needles to say, I was so done
Saturday evening, FINALLY I was back home, I just wanted to go to my room and sleep.
Of course my family wanted to have a short recap of the week (mind u it was like 1am when I got back home) so I stayed with them for a few minutes.
[Forgot to mention that my grandpa also flew back and is currently staying at our place]
I decided that I'm done, and told everyone I will head to bed. Which was like not acceptable at all apparently, because my ENTIRE family told me I should not be so stiff and just talk for a little bit. I feelt how tears started to pool in my eyes and I headed up to my room. I possibly had the biggest breakdown that evening after like a year. I was crying, and hitting my head with my fists.
I sat against my bead with my head between my legs and started to talk to myself, I repeat things like: "no one cares about me", "I better be of dead", "I hate it here", "im nowhere welcome" over and over and over again.
At some point I started to whip back and forth while still saying my mantras and crying.
After an hour my mom actually came looking for me, she saw me crying and sat down next to me, and cradelt me in her arms. I was able to calm down fairly quickly and my mom put me to bed.
All good right?
NO
For some reason that week in Spain messed me up big time, I feelt and still feel tired 24/7 since then and something tells me I'm in for a huge ass roller-coaster of emotions for the next weeks if not months. It's as if my entire progress got whipped out and I'm starting at 0 again.
Which is also why I relapsed a few days after getting back. I needed something that makes me feel, just not empty.
And that is cutting myself.
I contemplated it for a while, since I was 1month and some days clean at that point, but ultimately I decided to give in into the urges and dug out my faceshaver of my drawer.
I set up my phone to record it and started to lightly cut into my thigh, not deep so that it will take weeks to heal but deep enough so that it bleeds and stings. At first I just wanted to make one or two cuts but I did a few more, I stopped the recording, pressed down on the bleeding cuts with a tissue and slapped a bandaid on.
As soon as I cleaned everything up I started to feel horrible, guilt started to eat me up but it was to late anyway. I reseted my streak on my sober app and went to sleep.
On top of it all, the guy I've been talking to for the past 1 1/2 months started to be less interested. We went on a date last week but he was so distant towards me and he constantly checked his phone.
Which is weird because he would always tell me that, he is not on his phone when he goes out.
LIAR!!! U FOUL STINKY LIAR
so yurr I'm pretty feed up with him too, and after he left me on open for 11hrs I decided he should definitely be the one putting in effort now, or I'm gone. I'm not an entertainer for lazy men.
The scary thing about it all is that I feel so drawn towards my blade and cut again. Some part of me wants to heal so desperately and another part of me wants to feel all these bad emotions and embrace them. They are so comforting and I feel in some twisted way, very safe. And that is so scary