picked at wounds, "to see if it hurts"
7% (3 votes)
pulled your own body hair out
2% (1 vote)
banged or punched body parts
14% (6 votes)
used fire or knives to test pain
2% (1 vote)
tasted caustic/dangerous/poisonous substances out of "curiosity"
2% (1 vote)
deprived myself of food or sex
14% (6 votes)
I have done more than one choice
58% (25 votes)
Total votes: 43
Comments
Sick Pleasures and Pain
I am often humbled and amazed by the work others are doing for complete strangers, all because they speak the same language of unspoken loss, pain and misery.
I was trying to find articles that could describe the emotional depth that goes behind self-harm, self-punishment, or Self-Injury. I honestly don't think most well-adjusted people, including therapists, truly understand the idea that there are levels and depths to pain. In fact, I have often refered to my own inner strife to Dante's Inferno, as that story best describes the complexity of darkness I would feel myself falling into those periods I called The Abyss. Chambers of loss, depths of crying... I believe these are things many adult-adoptees feel, but do so silently.
I really don't think there are that many quality "Adoption Authorities" out there who specialize in personal pain, inner-turmoil and agonizing angst. I see traumas as layers. The more layers, (traumatic events), the more complex the feelings towards individual pain and punishment become. In many ways, it's visceral. If trauma is all a person knows, and it is absent, what is a person likely to do when all sense of pain is gone? If a person sees himself as the cause of pain, is it natural or normal to seek self-punishment so "bad patterns" change? I believe the natural normal course of action for many is to seek "comfort" through another source of trauma. It's not necessarily for drama's sake as much as it to fill the missing piece of familar pain. After all, are we not creatures of habit, seeking our own sense of home? Given the number of adopted children in this world, I would think the mental health field should take a closer look at their own practice, and start looking at the actual structure of the brain as a human organ, like the heart, liver and lungs. The technology is there; there are no more excuses. Between fMRI's and MEG machines, scientists CAN see if there are anatomical deformities in the brains that is causing this type of behavior. Does neglect damage the physical structure of the brain, ( like atrophy) if so, can it be repaired in a way that drugs are not necessary? What do neurologists think? People are performing surgical proceedures on themselves, at home, with steak knives, because no one sees the wounds they keep and hide inside. Children and adults are experimenting with chemical agents because it may or may not be safe, and the side-effects might be fun. Humans are willing to subject themselves to a life-time of misery and pain because that's all they know and have grown comfortable to accept as being "life". Why is this morally and medically acceptable? Something needs to be done to help these walking wounded, because life should not be nothing more than a series of painful experiments, done at our own body's expense.
If people need more to read, I found a website that says is far better than I ever could.
Brave people write these stories. Keep in mind, the following examples are extreme. "Sick Pleasures" can go in all sorts of directions... these are just a few:
http://self-injury.net/intheirownwords/words/how-do-you-self-injure/2/
In Their Own Words:
Sick Pleasures
I was reading this, and some of it scared me.
Nightmares, flashes, memories, anxiety,regrets,and anger/rage. I feel such rage it scares me. Cutting is containing a dam of emotion. I have so much grief and nothing can make it better...nothing
Rage and grief, turned against one-self. That's deep and that's serious. As far as I'm concerned, these people need help. Yet, metaphorically speaking, I can understand the need to bleed, or purge as a cleansing experience.
I believe there are lesser degrees to this set of behaviors that fits more into S & M, (not that I'm into any of that stuff, I'm just facinated by the people who do it!)
As far as "self-harm"; I always have a habit of testing an injury. Even if it's just a bruise, I'll push it, to see if it still hurts. "Does it hurt?" (how about now?) I don't like the pain, but I find relief knowing the pain is still there. I used to pick scabs, too. I had a friend who used to eat his. That was gross, and cool. I would eat the skin to blisters, though. For some reason that seemed "clean' to me. I know people who would pick facial hair, like their eye-brows and eye lashes, out of nervous habit, (much like biting nails is), but I also know a few people who pick their pubic hair, deliberately. I don't understand why they don't just shave, like normal people, but maybe they have razor issues? [sorry, that was a bad joke for a serious topic -- but if we can't make fun of ourselves, who can we make fun of?]
As I'm writing this, I'm noticing how curious I am about other people's pain-tollerence compared to my own. For instance, my facination with old torture prisons focuses on the question, "would I have been able to endure that?" I like to imagine how long a man/woman can endure certain tortures before death; then I'm facinated by the death process itself. I started reading about methods of embalming, because my friend started dating a mortician. I like to imagine, "What if the guy wasn't dead, but in a coma, and he woke-up during the embalming process - what would that be like?"
Sick stuff, isn't it? I wonder if my brain has all the right pieces in all the right places?
Turning stale
Couple of years ago I wrote these lyrics to a song that never existed.
I don't want to sound like a drama queen or anything,
but somewhere down the line life stinks you know.
Some days it is like the smell of rotten corpses,
but what do I know of odours anyway.
It's not that I don't see any fun, I just don't feel like laughing.
Fun feels so fake these days, though I still keep my sense of humour.
Some days there is just emptiness, but the truth is I am full of shit.
I could get a job, could get a life, could try,
but what is the point when nothing seems worth doing.
Of course there are TV shows all day,
soap opera's, game shows, talk shows,
that way I can at least lead somebody elses life.
And there is food and there are cigarettes
and if it is worth the effort I could go and get me a joint,
but usually I don't even feel like moving an inch.
The kitchen is at least 10 feet away from my chair
and you know I couldn't even be bothered to go there,
too much of a mess anyhow.
Of course I need to get to the toilet every now and then,
but I try to delay that as long as possible, have two turns in one go.
My bladder must have the size of curled up hedgehog by now.
At least it feels like one.
I stare with troubled eyes
My skin's a greyer shade of pale.
My head is full of lies,
My flesh is nearly turning stale
And then those people that keep telling me I should try this or I should try that.
I am so tired of them, I can't even be bothered to say fuck off.
Oh I get angry, but usually when they are gone,
Then I have those eloquent tirades, I almost wet my pants,
but I'm not sure if that is from laughter or from crying.
Last night I stuck a knife in the palm of my hand to find out if it hurt,
well it did and now I can't even jerk off properly anymore.
Those friends that are still around tell me I shouldn't pity myself so much,
they could be right, what do I know about anything anyhow?
I stare with troubled eyes
My skin's a greyer shade of pale.
My head is full of lies,
My flesh is nearly turning stale
Summers are the worst or maybe it is spring.
Wasn't there a poet who wrote that April was the cruelest month.
I don't give much for the sun anyway, live by night, sleep by day, that's my regime.
Fortunately by now we are heading towards winter,
I can't be bothered with snow, far too pristine for my taste,
but I like the cold and I like the shortness of the days.
Well I'd better stop by now, tool time is on
The Strange Difference
I always found it to be very manipulating and leading when a therapist would ask "Do you think about hurting yourself, or think about killing yourself?"
Kids can get depressed. [Read Depression in Children]
But there's a different between a facination with blood and gore and suicidal ideation. Parents need to be aware of this because from personal experience, I'm not so sure school counselors are.
Oddly enough, anyone who has witnessed war or childbirth knows how gross and bloody both can be.
self-mutilation
Not too long ago, I was talking to a girl who got raped by her adoptive brother, and although this happened decades ago, she still beats on herself, literally. She will punch her thighs and breasts until she gets bruises.
I've punched walls and such. I'll throw things, wishing to smash them to smitherines, but I can't imagine punching my own breasts out of rage and hate. I think I'm too much of a wimp to inflict that sort of pain on myself.
The sad thing is, she knows she does this, AND she knows why she does it. She hates her body, and hates what he did to her. So why would she take it out on herself like that?
Rituals and Reactions
I can only speak for myself and what I have encountered in the nursing realm, and talking to so many who have done harm to themselves as a result of self-punishment. One, it's not a foreign feeling to them, experiencing pain, and often the person doing this is in a state of detached- black-trance, the immediate pain is not even felt, until afterwards. It's a pattern that seems to form for those who have been treated badly by their family during childhood that explains such behavior. Think of it as abused conditioning, and accepting it as a life-order.
I see it as this self-induced ritualized punishment is being served (continuously, because they were trained and treated this way) each time something good, postitive or pleasurable is felt as being possible for the one treated like an animal most of his/her life. Typically the repeated verbal phrase spoken during these fits is: "How could I have been so stupid?!?"
To relate it to "normal every-day behavior", there was a long time ago a V-8 vegetable juice commercial that used to have the people klunk themselves in the head after eating something fattening, realizing "I could have had a V-8!"
<smack!> "How could I have been so stupid?"
Crowd pleasing
I was born into a strangers house,
I was born into a trough
A chosen child, a frozen child, a child to fill the void
Some part of me is human,
some part a paper trail
a written conformation of the blood rush in my vains
One day I play Jesus
and the other I play Faust
I even play the joker, though I hate that dreadful part
Only in the company of vagrants
and in my deepest solitude
i can break the spell, break my shell, break out of my own hell
One day I play Jesus
and the other I play Faust
none of them suits me, but I have no way around
I've never been a soldier
and I've never been a slave
I've never been a father, mother, brother nor a son
There is no home no consolation
no place to rest my soul
just another face, another place, another day to die
One day I play Jesus
and the other I play Faust
and when I meet my maker
and when I meet my maker
and when I meet my maker
will he have me around