Oh my. (triggering: self harm)

After a few weeks, you sort of forget the rush. The insane feeling of, I'm so amazing, that I can hurt myself, and even though I feel the pain (because I don't dissociate), it's nothing. It's like, it's like being powerful. It's like being so in control that you even have control of your physiological responses to pain. Pain? Give it to me, I can handle it, because that is simply how awesome I am.

And the blood? Oh yeah, the blood. Strong enough and resilient enough that I can bleed, and keep going. Proving to myself that I'm better than them. So many people have to stop for minor injuries, get their wounds dressed, seen by a professional . . . I'm so much more than that. I mean sure, if I had a soft tissue injury or I'd broken a bone or some shit like that I'd seek medical attention if it were necessary - although, being qualified in First Aid (sort of, needs renewing) so long as the bone's not broken I can pretty much take care of it myself.

I have to cover my cuts almost as soon as I make them. I can't risk people being suspicious about how many tissues I use, and I can't risk there being stains on my sleeves. So I cover them. And I know it's a good cut when it bleeds through the wound pad. If I take the dressing off tomorrow, and it starts bleeding again, then I know it was worth it. And when I cut, if I see the skin split from itself, and it's deep enough that the blood doesn't come right away (I'm not into hitting veins and arteries, I don't (currently) have a deathwish), I know I did it right.

And somehow it seemed important to prove to myself that I still have it within my power to do that. I have these awesome scars from the deep cuts I made in hospital, and other people don't like them, but they're mine, a visible testament to my amazing will power. Cutting deep hurts, you see, but I'm so amazing that I can move past that. I have so much control over myself that I can accept the pain as par for the course.

Oh yes, I am incredible.

My fingernails have a bumblebee colourscheme at the moment. Yellow base coat, black shatter top coat. I was surprised and pleased that my yellow nail polish mixed up again properly when I shook it, at first I thought it had gone the way of my blue - i.e., beyond repair. But apparently not! Yayness. And then I wondered where on earth my purple nail polish is. I haven't seen it for a while, but it's a really nice purple. Doesn't show up very well under the black shatter (I need to get a white shatter), but it's a nice colour on its own. Yup.

And I have an appointment this Friday. If I make it through without Yvonne noticing anything, then I'm home free. She's leaving on the 26th, you see, so a new person will have to get to know me first! And new people are generally reluctant to make decisions regarding where your mood might be. So I'm potentially in a very good place. If I get a job as a result of cold-calling on Wednesday, I'll be in an even better place.

Laters gs.