Well, last night was a pretty dark night. I think I pissed off the devil by saying that my cutting doesn't own me anymore. He was not happy as a result of that. There was massive spiritual warfare going on last night. I texted my friend and asked her what she does when she struggles with an urge to cut. She said she cries her eyes out and then calls someone. Well, my problem was I couldn't cry last night. So, I wrote down some feelings then I went into the chapel. Well, as soon as I knelt down in front of the Eucharist last night, the tears started flowing and I had a huge sense of peace come over me. As I knelt there in prayer, crying, I asked the Blessed Mother to "kick some ass for me tonight." Well, she did. St. Therese of Lisieux once said, "In trial or difficulty, I have recourse to Mother Mary, whose glance alone is enough to dissipate every fear.” Mary helped me so much last night. After I left the chapel, I was strong enough to get through the night and stay clean. I'm feeling much better today. I went to Mass this morning at one of the churches nearby and I know that today's going to be much easier.
I wanted to share with you what I wrote last night. It was just how I was feeling at that point in time. Most of this, I don't really believe most of the time. But when I start believing the lies that the devil has been feeding me for the last 2 years, this is what happens. These are raw emotions put into words and written down in desperation.
The scars are so hard to look at
My left arm and legs covered in reminders
So much pain, anger, hatred
My past haunts me
No self-control, an addict at 20
This isn't how I imagined my life.
Every single day is a fight
Reason vs. emotion, spirit vs. flesh
My body wants that which my spirit hates
God, I don't want this anymore
Please, I'm begging You to help me
Take the pain, anger, self-hatred away
I'm supposedly Your masterpiece
Why would You create one with such ugly scars?
Love tattooed on my arm
But how could You love me like this?
Why do You put up with me?
I've let You down so many times
I'm so afraid that I will never see
Myself as anything more than a cutter
I feel like my addiction defines me
I long for relief, so I turn to the blade
But the blade only brings along more pain
I long for freedom; I WANT TO BE FREE
I'm sick of trying and failing
Sometimes I don't wanna live anymore
I can't imagine dealing with this addiction
For the rest of my life
So overwhelming...who would hire a cutter?
Who would want to marry a cutter?
Fr. Rick once told me something in Confession.
He said that problems arise when you mess with His plan
And that's what suicide is: messing with God's plan.
Sometimes, God, I'm not a fan of this plan
I know You don't mess with free will,
But can just once You take away my free will?
I don't believe I'm good and most of the time,
I struggle with believing I'm loved.
Lord, sometimes I just don't wanna go on
This is just me. There's nothing special about me.
I wish I could see my scars as a sign,
A sign that I got through the hard times, not that I almost didn't
I'm a failure. I'm not beautiful.
I'm not lovable and I'm nothing more than a cutter
And that's all I'll ever be.
I'm sorry, Lord.
This is it. I'm giving up the fight.
It's way too dark in this night.
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