Emotional Blowout

[Content Warning added 20Jan2014 for use of ableist slurs and self-harm.]

The other thing that happened over the weekend was that I got a bit drunk on Saturday night and basically vomited my pent-up emotions all over Kelvin, in one huge unintelligible tear-streaked snot-caked globule. There were upsides and downsides to this.

Upsides:

1) He didn’t think I was gross, or if he did, it didn’t show.

2) He didn’t freak out when I showed him my arm.

3) He told me I was “working on the assumption that ‘pretty’ is something primarily to do with a person’s outsides” – it was really nice to hear him effectively say “Who cares how you look?”

4) I felt so much better for talking and I haven’t cut since – and still haven’t picked either.

5) Kelvin was quite drunk himself and doesn’t remember a damn thing.

Downsides:

1) I got the ‘so just stop’ response. He didn’t really understand – but then I didn’t really explain, I just vented.

2) He asked me if I realised how stupid it was to cut myself. Not in a spiteful way, I think he meant ‘pointless’ rather than ‘totally retarded’. I can see how pointless it looks from a logical point of view – pick or don’t pick, but why cut yourself? How does that make sense? I don’t know. But it did help me.

3) I’m pretty sure I failed completely at portraying the idea that I m struggling with a real problem that I am desperately looking to solve. I’m pretty sure I came over as an immature little emo fuckwit on a major attention-seeking bender.

4) Kelvin was quite drunk himself and doesn’t remember a damn thing.

Conclusions:

1) I have learned that, if I want to tell someone about this and actually get them to understand a little, I need to be sober, serious and calm when I tell them.

2) The emotional blowout was good for me. Days 1-10 = cutting every day but no picking. Night 10 = emotional vomiting. Days 11-12 = no cutting or picking. I feel kind of stable.

Peach
xxx

clever girl, way to go; twelve stickers in a row