Sunday Morning Alone

I’m counting by fives this morning.  Designs on the kitchen chairs, syllables of people’s names, etc.  It is wearing on my psyche.  Initially, I was excited about the prospects of having this day to myself.  Now I’m wondering if it is such a good idea to be alone all day.  If I’m stuck in a rut of fives, then it may be (is) tempting to put that fifth mark on my arm.  

All alone in the house, it would be easy to retrieve my cache of favored cutting instruments from their safe place. 

But who needs to look?  Chris has left a box cutter on the kitchen counter.

So what are the steps?  How do I slide down into self-injury?

Well, it usually starts with agitation, either by an outside event or OCD rituals that overwhelm.  Internalized pain that needs an outlet.  If I could just feel a little physical pain, it would diminish the pain inside or distract me from the OCD ritual that has consumed me.  Seeing my own blood is an extra bonus that soothes even more.

Focusing on that idea instead of the initial obsession is the next level.  I begin thinking about how a physical injury would feel good, as it has in the past.  I may begin to cause small pain at this point by pinching or punching myself.  Without a new distraction, then this idea of hurting myself becomes the new obsession.

It’s not like it is a sudden, thoughtless action.  Each injury has been a battle of hours, of resistance and fighting with myself.  Sometimes, I am reduced to a crumpled heap, crying on the floor for release from this desire.

So where am I right now on this path?  I have already made a small cut, just enough to see a small amount of blood, not the slash that I envision, and am hoping that this will be enough to suffice this time.  I got up a few paragraphs ago to take a Klonopin (like Valium), and the knife was too tempting.

I know that at this point I should be reaching out to others, but instead have my Droid next to me, hoping someone else contacts me, hoping for the “happy green dot” that tells me someone is texting or emailing me.   I’m taking time off to pray and worship some.

Back from taking time off, the anxiety medication is in effect; focusing on my Father, and relaxing in the ritual comforts of cleaning tasks have allowed the injurious compulsions to pass.  One more battle; not sure if it was won or lost, more like something in between.  Caught between the relief of release from the counting and disgust with myself for succumbing to the compulsions to hurt myself.

Last night, I was bathed in prayer from those who love me, affirming and strengthening me.  So why am I struggling so hard today?  Perhaps it is for that very reason. 

This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours.  This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels.  Be prepared.  You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own.  Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued….prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare.  Pray hard and long.  Pray for your brothers and sisters.  Keep your eyes open.  Keep each other’s spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.  Ephesians 6:12-18(MSG)

A heartfelt thank you to those who are walking with me on this journey and whose prayers are strength and light to my soul.