I’m here because I have to be somewhere. I’m just not able to handle myself on my own. I’m disappointed to see that I earn myself back from one compulsion then fall into another. si is under control but substances are now a problem. I feel like I want to crawl under a rock a die. I feel addicted to support. I’m thinking of getting a dog- someone to cuddle with and be safe with. I feel a craving to be held and perpetually unsafe. I want more access to my sadness and to my anger. I want to move into health with my full self–the first part of recovery was so….desperate… that just managing not to hurt myself was enough- but it’s like only the essential got through and now I need to go pull the rest of me through the threshold. All the parts of me that I’ve wanted to deny. And the funny thing is that they aren’t even “bad” parts- I wanted to leave my creativity behind. Anything to just be normal and live- if I had to be someone else to live that was fine but it’s not fine now. I want to be myself and live. I feel devastated by a grief that’s locked up inside of me. I’m starting to make more eye contact with my therapist and just allowing myself to be in relation like that is like slowly allowing something painful to be touched and I’m flushed with anxiety and clinging. Desperate to feel safe and lonely when I’m not with him. I feel so much grief over so many events. A life time worth of stuff to get through. My psychiatrist has always given me a little bit of a break with the substances–I feel like with the si I set the bar so low that I’ve been given permission and I’ve been permissive with myself too–also like how could anything or anyone be so cruel to take from me yet another way to cope. Again and again I cope in ineffective ways. I know that sometimes I feel happy, shiny. It isn’t always like this but right now….not good. And I have so many tools. I sound to myself like a programed robot at times. A problem comes up and I can name dbt answers, 12 step answers, yoga asanas…. but still there’s this pain. And this isolation. Irritation around being with others then collapse being alone. My God, I want to cry and cry and cry. But it doesn’t happen for me. Today I reached out to someone and she put her hands on my cheeks then hugged me. I wish I could just live in a hug. I soothe myself by holding a pillow or imaging a nurturing mother figure stroking my face. I’m mad that I need hokey crutches. The changing weather brings up si anxiety because I’ve come out of my shell a bit over the winter and met people and I love sleeveless shirts- can’t wait to wear them. But my arms scare me. I’m embarrassed and shamed but I also love my scars- they comfort me- and can trigger me. I don’t want to hurt them by treating them medically-they’re mine-they make me feel like I have some power. But I need to tell myself that that was not power. There’s no power in not knowing your angry then feeling a compulsion to self-harm. Power is knowing how you feel then having the freedom to decide your actions. But I don’t have the power to be as sad as I need to be. I don’t know how to let go and allow the emotional pain that I crave feeling.