Yeah, not really. That title popped in my head because I was thinking about writing about self destruction, which reminded me of the old television show “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” and how they would always get their orders from these self destructing cassettes so there was no evidence left behind and no one was privy to their instructions. In fact, if one is self destructive, I’ll let you in on a little secret: if he or she wants to be self destructive, he or she may find a way to do so without anyone noticing. I speak from experience.
Here’s the rub—do I continue writing this post honestly and possibly give away some of my secrets? Then I risk becoming completely transparent, so I must ask myself how I feel about transparency and the idea of being easy to read. I think I’m easier to read than I would like to think, so what’s the big deal if I throw down and show my belly? I think a wise warrior knows when to just let go of the shield and realize the strongest thing one can do is not just expose the vulnerability, but just celebrate it.
Well the jury is in, and I am about to be honest and reveal some of the things I do that I usually hide from others, because they are self destructive. Without further ado, let’s see my list of how I am self destructive.
Always wear waterproof mascara, ladies. When you cry your eyes out in the car on your lunchbreak, be sure to blot with tissue and not rub. When you return to work no one will know you had to cry your eyes out because you think you’re going nowhere fast and your looks and waistline are slipping (as far as you’re concerned), so everything seems out of control.
This next tip is pretty ingrained in Western culture, but it still bears noting. How do I respond when asked, “how are you?” Well it doesn’t matter if I have just suffered a death in the family, if someone asks me that, I respond with enthusiasm that I am doing well. In fact after learning of my father’s death via telephone, I apologized to the person on the other line for my being inaudible due to my sobs, thanked her, and said goodbye.
Another method of self destruction is to overextend yourself. Commit to a shitload of things. As you fail to live up to your list of things to do that is the length of the Dead Sea Scrolls, you can sit in bed and shame yourself for what a shitty person you are because you overdid it and failed. Imagine your friends and loved ones being disappointed and upset with you, and feel more shame at what a fickle human being you are.
Lie about your food intake. Just realize that low blood sugar will make you moody sometimes, and you have to take that into consideration. Honestly, I am just not comfortable enough with food to deal with it when I feel bad. People may not understand that although it may be damaging to me in the moment, letting me deal with food when I am ready (i.e. let me eat when I WANT to) is the best way to go. If I feel forced or like I have to do it then I won’t. If I feel like its no big deal it always comes back to a good moderate level. I cannot allow myself to be wavered by food. And POW! In writing this I just busted open a block in my mind.
If I control when I eat and how much I eat, then it cannot be held over my head as a bargaining tool. If I don’t care about when I eat or how much, no one can ever starve me again. In that instance (being starved), I can simply exercise my will and say I don’t want it. It no longer is a weapon to be used against me if I turn it upside down. It then becomes futile to take something from me that I do not want. In some recessed facet of my memory I see that fucking congealed macaroni and cheese in the blue plastic bowl sitting on the dark brown countertop. I see it. I want it. Its so cold I can’t smell it anymore but I still want it. it is not for me to have until he says so. I put it out of my mind, knowing I can have it eventually. Now I am an adult. I eat when I want to, or rather I do NOT eat when I do NOT want to, and have the last word.
This same principle probably applies to my sleep issues too. I enjoy being awake when most are sleeping because it feels safer. Sleeping during the day while everyone else is bustling around is good because there are less people around to disturb my sleep, and being awake late allows me to be awake when I would have been roused from sleep anyway. It seems like I am trying to be a step ahead. I control how much sleep I get, too. I can make myself function well on 2 or 3 hours of sleep. I take a certain pride in how much physical discomfort I can manage. It reassures me that I will survive if things should ever get that bad again.
The paradox is that I am preparing for something that already happened. The odds of being in a situation where I am tortured again are very slim, yet I feel like I need to be ready. I need to take the tools of torture away. Control of my sleep and food? Take it. I don’t need those things like everyone else. And that is self destructive bullshit.
There you have a list of some of the things I do to hurt myself. I’m not proud of this. I’m ashamed. I’m scared shitless to post this but I am going to because it is honest, and I may have to look back at this one day to remind myself I do not need to hurt myself. I take no pride in this. In fact I may be using this as a method to shame myself publicly and/or privately. After all, who the hell cares? In posting this I could be posting my weakness for all to see and mock, to take liberties and shame me further. Well so be it. In putting my thoughts and feelings on the web for the whole world to see and judge, I should be prepared for backlash. I guess I will test that out when I get to that situation. For now, another cup of coffee and some searching.