So this is the moment where I publicly come forward about my self-harm issues.
I have no recollection of the age at which they started. I suppose it’s a thing I’ve always done to myself that only in recent years came to have a name and only until last week started to become somewhat of a danger. They have been able to remain a secret because they left no trace – instead of cutting, burning or scratching, I just resorted to use my own body as a punching bag.
I thought they were over. The last time I continually inflicted pain to myself was during the dreaded 2012, in the midst of the worst of my depression and eating disorders. I never managed to cause more that a bit of blunt pain, and that was that, but it was enough. Since 2013 onward I had not had any urge to cause myself pain. Suicidal ideation is still there, but it has become manageable. I do still want to continually starve myself but thankfully now there’s someone committed to not letting me.
I’m in a good place now. I’m in the company of a very supportive and understanding person. I’m doing well in all material aspects of my life. This is as close as healing as it gets for me. I’ve been training martial arts for two years now. I have never been so strong, so agile, so able (despite my knee bit). I am now capable of controlling my body in ways that I never thought were possible. My mind, however, is still not tamed.
A week ago or so, in the middle of a small argument over a non-issue, I got triggered. I locked myself in a room and started beating myself silently and repeatedly, as hard as I could, in my arms, my legs, and my head.
However, for the first time, I did leave myself several bruises all over.
No one noticed. After all, I’m covered in them all the time since I started training. Most people noticed the one I left on the side of my face, but they thought none of it. On Mondays we do hand-to-hand combat, after all.
This alarmed me, and that’s why I’m choosing to reveal it now. Hitting myself had always been a sort of “healthy and harmless” vent for my own frustration. I do not choose or plan to do it, it just happens and I cannot control myself when I’m at it.
But now I know it will happen again, and I’m scared of what I may do to myself then.