It's been awhile...again. in Mental Health, 2017

Or at least it feels like it. Anywho, life has been pretty good lately, but every now and then i get a lil “episodic” wave of depression. Usually minor and doesn’t last long enough to make an impact. But this last one I allowed to go too far. I’m gonna do better next time, I swear.

So it was Wednesday. I’ve found that listening to random podcasts at work puts me in a good mood and some of them are quite interesting! And listening to my standard music can trigger me if the mood is right. Sounds pathetic, but its true. Thus, I’ve been making a valiant effort to listen to podcasts at work. But Wednesday, I listened to Trapt all day at work on repeat. Once I listened to a few of my favorite songs by them, I couldn’t stop, and certain memories were triggered.

Football practice was uneventful, but I was still in a funk when I got home after practice. Episodic. Long, embarrassing story short, I relapsed in the self-harm department. I don’t know if anyone else has self-harmed before, but when I do it, I’m almost in a trance of sorts; I’m definitely not thinking clearly. And I’m definitely ashamed after it’s all said and done and I’m back to “normal”. I hadn’t counted how many cuts there were until tonight (Sunday night), because I don’t especially like looking at them. 11 cuts in the middle, inside of my right forearm. The most I’ve ever done at one time ever.

Thought they’d be far enough from my wrist that they could be covered up with a long-sleeved shirt. And they are, unless I lift or bend my arm at the elbow. Then the sleeve slides up, and some of them are exposed.

Thursday at work I was trying my best to keep my sleeve down but I wasn’t paying attention at one point, and my coworker said “looks like your cat got you on your arm”. I went along with it because what else was I gonna do. Then later in the day I got a message my massage therapist friend on the team (who is actually now our team’s trainer for injuries and whatnot.) I sprained my ankle the week prior and she was messaging me because she wanted to see how it was recovering and work her magic fingers on feet and legs. I agreed to meet up with her that evening, thinking that she’d be so focused on my feet and there should be no reason for my sleeves to roll up if I’m just sitting there.

So wrong. I think.

I had them hidden easily enough when she was massaging my feet and ankles. But then she had me lay down on her table, belly/face down, so she could work on my hamstrings. I dangled my arms of the sides of the table, momentarily distracted by how tight my hamstrings felt at the touch of her fingers digging into them. Then I realized that my arms were bent at the elbow a wee bit in order to dangle and my sleeves were pulled up enough that they were displayed in the wide open and I just had to go with it at that point, hoping she didn’t see them. But I’m pretty sure she did because she kept walking away to write “long texts” on her phone behind me where I couldnt see her, and she’s not the type who checks her phone while working on any of us.

So I’m paranoid. Because she never said anything, but I can only assume that she did. Granted, I wouldn’t have said anything either.

I spent all of Friday mentally berating myself. Trying hard to get past it.

Yesterday, I slapped a huge band aid over them, so that if my long sleeved shirt slid up during football practice, which it did…a lot, all anyone would see was the huge bandaid. I was also very mentally slow during practice.

So I gotta mentally start over and work harder on letting these “episodes” get to me, at least not so much that I end up doing something stupid to myself to that degree. These will heal, and I’ll do better.

Kind notes only