After spending weeks with that one little paperclip I found a peace that I had been missing.
My attitude had changed and I was less aggressive to those around me. I had become calmer both mentally and physically. My next appointment with Ms. Jessica had to have been disappointing for her as we seemed to have taken a dozen steps backward from where we were last.
I didn’t want to talk about Samantha or anything that had anything to do with her. She was still pissed at me and now it was worse as she has never been a fan of the self-mutilation I found so much comfort in.
So I decided to talk about that. The self-mutilation. Ms. Jessica was one of the best listeners I had ever been forced to talk to. She always listened and never gave feedback unless she knew I wanted it. As I began to talk to her about my cutting and how and when it started and why she just listened.
We talked about why it was not a good way to cope with things. As she listed off all the alternative ways to cope with the crappy things in life I gripped my leg in just the right way so the pain shot right through me and she was none the wiser.
After our session, I went back to my room and added to my growing collection of scars with no hesitation at all. I remember thinking about how long it took my mom to find out about the cutting and knew that this time as long as I was careful I could get away with it just as easily as before.
I did miss my razor though. All I could seem to think about was a way to get it back. It didn’t take me long to come up with a plan.
“I can feel the hurt. There’s something good about it. Mostly it makes me stop remembering.”
― Albert Borris
