Stupid, Pathetic, Disgusting Bitch

I haven’t been able to find the words to respond to your comments yet, but please know that you and Everest have literally been getting me through. I am so grateful to all of you. [TS, tonight I sat in bed with chocolate milk and read Winnie the Pooh.] But this post is different, and it talks about things that feel incredibly wrong to share with people who have survived assaults when they had no choice but to endure it. So I want you to know that if you feel angry with me, or repulsed, or whatever you might feel, that’s okay, and I’m sorry. 

Last night, I wanted to hang myself. I had the rope tied, and I leaned my weight against it to make sure it would hold. Right now, the idea that I didn’t hang myself seems crazy, but I wrote here, and read blogs, and watched children’s movies on Netflix, and somehow the time passed until I fell asleep, with a scalpel under my pillow.

I am so far at the end of my rope (oh, god, pun not intended) that I seem to be giving zero fucks right now. I told my boss that I couldn’t work because I was suicidal. I told our HR manager that I couldn’t go to our biggest event of the year because I didn’t feel up to it. And last night, when the beautiful La Quemada said she wanted to keep me safe, and asked what she could do, I told her she could make me a recording. When I first started writing, I was so impossibly in awe of her, but she has been one of my staunchest and most loving supporters, and when she offered, I wasn’t afraid to ask.

A little after midday today, I got up, got dressed, and went out for a walk. I patted a dog, and smelt some flowers, and felt a little better. Then I went into a hardware store, pretending to myself that I just wanted to look at plants, when I knew I was really going in to look at dangerous things.

I found one that I really wanted. I picked it up, put it down, walked away and came back to it, then repeated the cycle again. I really wanted it. If I’d taken it home, I would have used it. So I took a breath, and thought ‘Okay, this is the time to listen to Q’s recording‘. The shop was pretty empty, and I ducked behind a shelf and sat down on the ground.

I was in tears after the first two words. I cried, and I felt relief. She told me she could see that I was weighed down, and beyond tired, and that I couldn’t see how I was supposed to go on living my life like this, and that it’s okay to feel like this. That I don’t have to force myself to keep pushing through no matter what, and it’s okay to take a break.

Actually hearing her say that was powerful. I’ve only ever been able to express myself with cuts and burns and suicide attempts before. But I’ve been using words, and Q understands. She really understands. (I think you all do.) Those two minutes and forty-six seconds decreased the urgency of needing to act on the thoughts and the feelings.

I went back and touched the dangerous thing one more time, then left without it.

It’s getting harder and harder to hurt myself. That sounds like a good thing, but it isn’t. I still need to hurt, I’m just too much of a cowardly chicken-shit to do it myself any more. My pain threshold is getting lower, or my critical voice is getting weaker, or something, I don’t know, but sometimes I just can’t make myself do it, even when my whole body is on fire with the need for pain. I’m afraid of it, but I need it.

I don’t know if this is a sensation that’s familiar to anyone else, and the closest analogy I have is that tingling sensation that comes with attachment pain, that visceral need to be held. It feels intolerable, like there’s no way to soothe it.

A few weeks ago, I was lying in bed, completely taken over by it. I don’t remember what was happening, whether I was stressed, or anxious, or if something had happened, but I needed to hurt. I ran through all the options in my head – cutting; burning; hitting myself; banging my head; breaking a bone; choking myself – and I couldn’t come up with a single one I felt capable of doing. I didn’t think I could cut deeply enough to feel better, and I didn’t want to hold a flame against my skin. It hurts so much, and I was scared, and I just didn’t want to. Couldn’t.

I felt desperate. So I started Googling.

Hire someone to punch me in the face.” No results.

Pay someone to beat me up.” No results.

Looking for somebody to hurt me.” Nothing. Other than an (apparently defunct) app in China which allowed people to hire vigilantes to beat up their enemies for revenge (or their friends for a laugh), it wasn’t getting me anywhere.

I am very, very averse to sex of any kind. I don’t want to have sex, ever. I’m saying that (with some discomfort) so you understand that when I reluctantly started looking into S&M, it was a last resort. The urge to cut myself is coming up now, just thinking about being in that situation. But I was desperate. I couldn’t hurt myself, so I needed to find someone to do it for me.

Over the next few days, I trawled through Craigslist and any other website I could find, finding men in my area who fit my criteria. Anybody who mentioned aftercare or safe words was automatically off the list. Anybody who seemed kind or respectful was off the list. Somebody who was just going to mildly bruise me in a controlled way then rub it with soothing ointment was not going to hurt me enough to make me better. I was looking for somebody who wouldn’t want to talk to me, who seemed likely to punch me and cane me, kick me, who wouldn’t stop if I was crying, or if I said no. Somebody who would probably want sex, and wouldn’t care that I didn’t.

It sounds like a rape fantasy or something, but I swear it’s not. I want it because I don’t want it. Part of me believes that if I go through something traumatic and awful where I have no control over the pain or what happens to me, it’ll fix me. If it’s bad enough, I won’t want to hurt any more. The same way I thought breaking my wrist might fix me. It won’t, I know it won’t, but I don’t know what else to do.

I held on for a few days, and then the need to hurt triumphed over the fear of going to a stranger’s house where god knows what would happen. I clicked on the profile for the man ‘looking for a submissive slut to abuse‘, and started writing a message.

But god, I so didn’t want to do it. So I ended up in the bathroom, giving myself a chemical burn instead.

The last time I burnt with chemicals, I’d promised myself I’d never do it again. It takes hours, and it’s agonising, like a million fire ants biting at your leg. Unlike lighter burns, the pain lasts for days, and the next night I was literally writhing in bed, whimpering and crying. But it’s passive. You don’t have to slice, or hold a flame against you. You just have to sit, and endure.

And that is why I needed surgery.

I think this is maybe part of why I’m so suicidal. The burn didn’t change anything – it just postponed it. I’m still struggling to hurt myself, and I still need to hurt. It would be easier to be dead.

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Stupid, Pathetic, Disgusting Bitch

16 thoughts on “Stupid, Pathetic, Disgusting Bitch

  1. Watching movies, having hot coco, listening to Q’s recording was a good thing. You did good. I wish I knew what to say. I hear how much to are hurting and I really want to take that pain away. I’m not sure it’s the same thing, but for me as I have become a little more whole, I have found it harder to cut, to starve, to throw up, and so much harder to hold that rigid perfect facade. And while some might consider that a good thing, it feels like a loss to me. It is hard, and sometimes I just want that girl back.

    Anyway. I think you just posted this, and I wanted to write back in real time. I’ll check back soon in case you write more.

    Snuggle up in bed, cuddle Everest, watch a movie. On Netflix I really like the mako mermaid show. It’s for kids, but I love it. Maybe you will like it too. 💟🤗💟🤗💟🤗💟 XxAlice

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sirena says:

    Oh Rea 😢 what are we going to do with you? Thank you Q for sending a comforting recording.
    Self harm has gotten harder for me too and I feel it more that I used to. So technically that’s a good sign that it’s harder for you. It’s just going to take time for you to replace that coping mechanism for something else. I read somewhere that self-harming is sometimes a stand-in for physical touch, it’s the comforter.
    Have you considered reiki? Very gentle hands on or off and very healing.

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  3. Hi Rea, thank you for sharing what you did on this post. I am so glad that you are still here and still posting. I certainly don’t think less of you for doing or thinking about doing something to yourself voluntarily that other people may have experienced under duress. You find ways to deal with your pain and you do the best you can. Anything to get rid of that feeling of a rat in a box in your head running round and round trying to find a way out.

    Thank god for children’s shows on tv (and cat videos on YouTube). Does Everest show any interest in the tv? Last year when I had two kittens they used to adore a show called Minuscule, which had animated insects. Every time it came on they’d run up to the tv as if to say “ooh, ooh, our show is on”, and they would follow the action, their little heads tracking the insects in unison, and then try to jump up and catch them on the tv screen.

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  4. I’m typing on my phone – I wanted to say that I’m truly sorry you’re in so much pain. Your writing communicates how intensely hopeless and desperate you feel. I wish I could lessen the pain for you.

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  5. Rea, I am so sincerely sorry that you’re in as much pain as you are – if it was only half as bad, I would say something similar, because this is so massive that after a point there are no more words. I am so sorry. There is nothing cavalier about how you talk about wanting someone to hurt you – it comes from such a deep place of pain that it couldn’t possibly be construed in a bad way by anyone with half an ounce of compassion. I’m sending as much love and hope as possible in the hope that it might soothe the agony just a little. 💕💖💗💞✨💓💛

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  6. I’m so glad to see and read this post. Wow, those thoughts and self-judgments (stupid pathetic bitch) are intense, and so painful. Which is why I am really glad you are writing them out, so you aren’t alone with them. Feeling so awful and despairing is hard enough, and to be in it completely alone makes it even worse (if that is possible). I don’t judge you for the sexual harm fantasies; in fact, from time to time if I am feeling really dark, I fantasize about being raped or putting myself in that position. To some it might seem extreme or weird, but I just see it as coping, plain coping, that is all. You don’t know how to handle all that is up right now, so of course you are desperately seeking solutions wherever possible.
    You mentioned not giving a fuck, but what I am reading and inferring, is that you might actually be starting to give more of a fuck than you ever have before. Which is why you’re taking these steps to take care of yourself (not working, reaching on here, not getting the means). And also you are feeling more now; when you were numbed out, a lot easier to physically harm yourself, because the numbness kind of makes it okay and not seem harmful. But you’re more aware of the consequences and pain. Just guessing.
    So much support and love to you.

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    1. It’s really about physical injury, not sexual harm. The idea of sexual assault is more just something I have to accept, given that a “thug for hire” apparently isn’t an option so I have to go down the S&M route. I’d describe it as more of a nightmare than a fantasy. That’s why I haven’t told Nikki this yet – I’m worried she won’t get that.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh dear, I hope I didn’t say something that indicated I thought it was about the sexual assault – read that loud and clear, that is is about the physical harm. Totally get that. It is a really vulnerable urge/thought/nightmare to share with her. It is so sensitive.

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  7. This.shaking says:

    My Dear Friend Rea: So sorry to take so long responding. I just saw your reply to me from 20 hours ago – Oh, and here is a fresh batch of the chocolate chip cookies! – and this post. I get this post. I’m just now starting to get close to things in therapy – after 25 years of intense work – that cause new waves of pain; stuff I could not have predicted even a month ago. I have no idea how to deal with it, except to keep on following the yellow brick road, I guess. OUCH. Google tells me that Tigger and Kanga are in the 2d Winnie the Pooh book – The House at Pooh Corner – and I am ordering it from Amazon tonight. Kanga can take care of us while we bounce together.

    Rea – I do understand the need for pain to overcome the pain.

    Dear Rea – Big People used to control what kind and when and where and how much pain to cause Little Rea. I am SO FURIOUS with those Big People. I have made myself a Gentle Person – sort of in a way to spite the Big People in my life, despite them.
    Kind of a way of controlling my pain, I guess.

    I am very upset by the way my friend, Big Rea, is causing pain to Little Rea. I so much much much want you both to be safe. I love you both. I imagine My Great Friend, Big Rea and TS holding hands, making a gentle circle, with soft sweet Little Rea inside. We sing to Little Rea, smile and do silly things, play Peek-A-Boo with Our Baby Girl. Together with Kanga, we keep Baby Safe.

    One more thing. I would like to ask you for something, please. If Big Rea needs to hurt Little Rea, , would you consider going to some good grownups for help? I don’t want you or me to lose any more Rea, or Rea Parts.

    Your buddy – TS

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Rea dear. I am truly happy that the recording was helpful. It was made with love.

    I think self-harm means multiple things at the same time. Sometimes the punishing part feels important. But for me I think self-harm has come to serve the function of release when the emotions are too intense. If I can’t stop thinking about how horrible I am (the words in my head are usually, “Bitch. Pig. Whore” or “I am a terrible person and don’t deserve to live”), a burn seems to open a space in my skin where some of that pain can exit. Right in that moment, a wave of relief washes over me. Physically I suspect what might really be happening is a release of endorphins, something like that. And then the lingering pain is a distraction for a while from the emotional pain.

    I have also thought about many of the ways to hurt myself that you mention or have someone else hurt me. I say that so you know you are not alone in this kind of thinking. I’m not saying it’s a good thing, just that it seems to be one more reaction to trauma that a lot of us share. I imagine if you told Nikki, she would be sad and concerned, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d heard something like that.

    You are brave and wise to share here on your blog. I’m so sorry you are in such pain, but you can see how many people genuinely understand and care. You are very precious. xxxooo

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  9. Rea,
    Thank you for sharing with us. I don’t have any words that will make it better right now (I’m very dissociated) but I just want to say that I hear your pain, it is so very real, and I love you and am thinking of you.
    (Also, my blog has gone to private. If you request to join, I’ll of course let you in!) xxx many many hugs – Lily

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  10. oh god, I thought I was the only one. I am so sorry that you have been (are) there. Needing the pain but feeling unequal to it. And knowing that the need will still be there, all consuming, even if I manage to create pain. its never enough, never. and it all feels so hopeless and the mean voices are meaner and meaner no matter what. I too havent told Elle about looking in the S&M pages.

    Is awareness progress? I don’t know and It seems that I lack the skills to cope with the awareness. Not sure if that makes any sense. But you did it. You chose something different and held out, even for a moment or two makes you a warrior.

    But warriors get tired, so I’ll come over and TS can read to us both and we can rest and Everest will let me pet her for a minute before cuddling up with her favoritist person (you).

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  11. Confessions of Scar says:

    Hello, Rae. I’ve been reading a lot of your posts for the past hour and I am so sorry for what you are going through. I wish I could help in some way.

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  12. This.shaking says:

    Hello, hello, Rea! The other night I was babysitting my 5 year old grand daughter (A) – something had scared her during the day, and, after we read our books, she draped her body across mine and tried to go to sleep. Every time I moved (I hadn’t had dinner!) she woke up again, and snuggled on me. I wish I could send that deliciousness to you and to all Our Bloggy Friends! She finally slept deeply – and I had collected about a million tons of fabulous yummy hormones inside my body. Little Girls are So Wonderful. Each of us was – and was not allowed to be. So much essential stuff was taken from us. You received pain instead of tenderness. I imagine you lying on me, as A did, collecting and giving warmth, safety, containment, contentment. What finally helped A to let go, was my whispering to her: “You will have a lovely night, Sweetie, and tomorrow, you will have a lovely day.” TS

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