I self-harmed today. Not in the way I normally do though. No. Today, while at the Rose City Comic Con, I passed a tattoo booth and decided spontaneously to get a tattoo. It was of the Silence from Doctor Who. I was going to post a photo but the only photo is on my phone. I’m in bed using my tablet and I’ll be fucked if I’m moving at this point. Maybe I’ll post it tomorrow.
While I’ve been wanting to get a tattoo of this sort for a while. This decision was totally made to recreate the sensation I get from cutting. It works really fucking well and is way more socially acceptable. I mean, I’ve already got a tattoo appointment for Monday (Weeping Angel). I have no business spending money on an unnecessary (though it did fulfill a psychological need) tattoo today.
Sadly, this is actually the second tattoo I’ve gotten in lieu of more traditional self-harm. I even managed to cover some of my SH scars with the new tattoo to boot. And it deprives me of money that I might otherwise use to buy drugs. So, I guess that’s good too.
I don’t know any more. As I was coming out of meditation tonight, I was reflecting on how fucking crazy I am these days. I currently am unable to trust my thoughts or my feelings. So, I just try to have minimal interaction with others and try to just do the bare minimum to get by as I evidently can’t tell if the actions I might take are coming from a place of health or sickness. It’s stressful, frightening and exhausting.
I mean, at one point today I flipped from desperately wanting to live to desperately wanting to die. There is no in-between and it is wearing me out because I seem to experience these radical emotional shifts all the time. I’m tired of being tired.