Cutting and Self-Harm

Self harm is a topic which is now being mentioned more often, but is often mentioned in a similar way to leprosy. There seems to be mostly pity for anyone who practices self-harm, rather than sympathy. It often seems that there is more actual sympathy for addicts, or people with eating disorders. These do all have similarities, which is why I mention them together.

All of these are coping mechanisms, addictions, self-harm, eating disorders, all usually begin as methods to deal with stress or misery. My own started around the time of my seperation from my wife, a particularly stressful time as I also could not find a job, and was for a short time homeless before I could face asking my parents to let me move back in. I managed to avoid starting smoking, which came much later, and avoid any other substance addictions. After all affording them was a little difficult.

What I did find though, which did help me cope, was that I could hurt myself. The insides of my forearms are heavily scarred, some of these scars are from other events but many are my own doing. I was extremely careful at the time, not wanting to risk causing any serious damage to myself, so I made sure to sterilise any blade I used, make sure it was sharp and smooth, and so on. Pretty much in the same way that a heroin addict might sterilise a needle.

As to what exactly it did, that is hard to say. In a physiological context I could point out that pain and injury releases adrenaline and endorphins, a very definite rush. In a psychological context it is a control method. The pain and injury, and the scars or wounds left behind, are signs that there is still some little bit of your own life that you are the one in control of. I will admit that this is not sensible in any way but that does not stop it from being at least partly true. It is an addiction, and it does help to cope, but as with any addiction once the need for the coping mechanism is gone the habit often remains.

I finally stopped at the same moment as I decided to stop cutting my hair. Part of the reason I am so concerned about people cutting my hair is because of this, it represents the fact that I have decided that part of my life is over. I had a lot of help before stopping, but when I actually did it was something I chose to do on my own.

For anyone else who may self-harm, remember that as with any coping mechanism or addiction you need to be careful not to put yourself at serious risk. And I do recommend getting real help, whether from a professional or someone else. There are all sorts of ways you can try and cut down on the addiction, such as wrapping rubber bands around your wrists.

The big problem now though is the fashion self-harmers. A large part of the reason I have an intense dislike of emos is the impression they seem to be insistent on giving that self-harming somehow is required to be in their clique. Accept someone who does it, without showing revulsion, yes, but actively encouraging people to cut themselves is just twisted, and not in a good way.

Now to emphasize my view. I will not condemn anyone who does it any more than I would a smoker, or alcoholic, how they deal with it and how it affects others is what will tip the balance. Better than any of these methods is to get real help to deal with things, or to just deal with it alone, and no addiction should ever be taken up whether as a coping mechanism or anything else.

Pain and Pleasure

Admittedly this is a very stereotypical post for someone like me to make, and has been discussed many times before, but I still feel like mentioning it. I cannot think of anything else to post about tonight at least, though suggestions for future posts are more than welcome. Anyway onto the topic.

One of my more disturbing party tricks was discovered a while ago by a friend who wanted to show off his grip. He tried to crush my hand, in the middle of a pub. The moan I let out was enough to discourage anyone from doing it again. The fact that I had a stupid, semi-orgasmic grin on my face for the next few minutes only made it worse. Similar incidents have occured before, and since, usually prompted by comments of 'hurt him, its funny' or suchlike by friends.

Now while I do not mind people finding my reaction to pain fairly comical most of the time, it can get a little irritating. In a way it might be thought of as someone finding it amusing that you find it pleasurable to have someone kiss your neck. If pain is a sensual pleasure, then inflicting that pain becomes linked in some way to that pleasure. That pleasure, even if it may be enjoyable to be watched, or take risks in public, is still a highly intimate thing, and so pain becomes the same.

The other thing I should mention is that not all pain is the same. In a fight for instance I do not want to get hurt. In a context where things could be serious, where I could end up severely injured, it stops being fun. Only when things are casual, or at least I am not in actual danger, are things enjoyable.

Now to flip the coin I also enjoy inflicting pain, again in a relatively safe manner. For anyone who may not know the fancy word for this, sadomasochist is the term that you are looking for. If you are thinking of the stereotypical leather-wearing person in bondage then I am afraid you are under a misconception.

As to why I enjoy it, something I have been asked before, I have some difficulty explaining. It may simple be that I enjoy sensation, all sensation, and pain is amazingly close to the sensation that orgasm brings. Or it may just be bad wiring in my brain. It could even be a deep-buried self-loathing that makes me enjoy being hurt. Any of those could be the case, essentially though I enjoy giving and receiving pain.

This post has ended up a little longer than I was planning, so any how-to tips or details of my own experiences will have to wait until another time. I think experiences might well be saved until after I have had a chance to visit Slave in Ireland and play a little more in this particular fetish.

Commitment Phobia

This is mainly a post to explain my last one, since it seems to have confused people. Valley is not the only one asking me why I do not want a relationship with Sweetie, though she is the only one to have left a comment. My reasons go back a long way.

My relationships to date, ones where I have been committed, have not turned out well. Probably the best I have had in recent times was one that ended recently because the girl's paranoia did not let her accept that I was not cheating. Along with various supposed 'friends' trying to tell her that I was cheating so that they could sleep with her, she knew my reputation too well and found it difficult to deal with.

I will not have a committed relationship with Sweetie for several reasons. The first ties back to past relationships, and essentially boils down to me now being unwilling to commit to anyone who cannot simply accept me and trust me as I am. For all her qualities Sweetie is paranoid, and the distance is not helpful in that regard. While she can accept that I may be seeing other people, I honestly do not believe she could trust me if I told her that I was not.

The second is more related to who she is, and how she is. As I have said before she is a lovely, sweet girl. Unfortunately this means that I have to restrain myself constantly around her. I am not a lovely, sweet person. I can be very nice, but I am honestly not a nice person. Again, if I am to go into a relationship then it needs to be with someone who can accept that occasionally I do want a raging argument to settle me. I want them to stand up for themselves and make cutting remarks right back at me.

And the third boils down to sex. While Sweetie is somewhat open-minded in her attitude to sex, she shares only a couple of her kinks with me. It has been a very long time since I have been able to indulge myself properly during sex and I really do miss it. Being stuck having nothing but vanilla sex, with the same person, as my only amusement has been proven to drive me mad in the past.

So if someone fills all three criteria, I might consider a relationship. Otherwise I am going to continue being me.

I suppose I should also clarify what I mean by a relationship. To me it implies commitment to the other person. Yes, that is suprisingly close-minded and traditional of me but in the way that most people understand that is what a relationship means. We lack the words to describe other sorts properly.

Apparently I Am Not Irresistable

I know, I know, this is a hard idea to come to terms with, but it appears to be true.

Actually the title of this entry is a bit of a lie. Not that I am not irresistable, that but is true, but it is a bit off-topic for the rest of the post. For some reason all I could think to write about tonight was confidence, and lack of it or over-abundance of it. See the thing is I actually have both. Simultaneously I can have complete and utter self-confidence, almost offensively so, and act accordingly, and I can be utterly insecure and uncertain about everything.

I suppose the title is somewhat related. It does not shake my faith in myself if someone does not find me attractive, or even likeable. In fact it does not alter my view of myself at all, I know that some people find me attractive and that is enough. Except that it is not, because there is a flip side to the coin. The fact that people find me attractive, and I know that they do, does nothing to boost my confidence because I never seem to be able to persuade myself that it means anything.

I am sure I am not the only one who feels this, and do not believe I am for a second. I am just curious whether anyone thinks this is due to some unshakeable self-doubt inside me, instilled during years of torment in childhood, or whether it is the opposite and I have some sort of permanent internal self-belief, simply from surviving said torment.

And in other news, off to see yet another new member of the cast in a couple of weeks. For now I think Student will do for her, as it is a nicely descriptive name. She is kind of cute, can match me for innuendo quite comfortably, and has no interest in any form of relationship or commitment. At least in theory.

Sweetie is prodding for some sort of commitment, but so far she does not seem to want to go as far as pushing me into it. I appreciate that she is not trying to push me, but it does make me feel a little guilty. I know I am not using her and I have told her that there are others but I almost feel that it would be better for her to find someone else and realise that there are people out there who will have a genuine relationship with her.

Fireworks Are Dangerous

So you see those pretty things up there? Those ones which go boom, whizz, flash and crackle? The ones which sparkle and shine and light up the sky? The ones which fall over and get stuck in their launchers, or in the case of some fly free of their securing nail and spiral across the garden in a whirl of sparkling fury?

Yes, fireworks. They are immense fun. But has anyone else noticed that they are at their best when things do not go quite to plan? Take our little home display last night. We had a highly successful bonfire, even if we did all need to shelter from the heat behind a tree when it was at its best. And we may have accidentally set fire to a large patch of bamboo and burned it half to the ground before anyone managed to get the fire extinguisher out, but it was fun all the same.

Then we moved on to the actual display.

That was when the fun really started.

We started the display with a rocket, a very large rocket, lit by yours truly. Sadly the launching tube must have been pressed a little too firmly into the ground so that the rocket's own stick ended up stuck in the earth. As you can imagine, in an explosive device with a blast radius of about twenty to thirty metres and intended to fire off at a height of maybe a hundred feet, being stuck is not a good thing.

It did actually launch, eventually, but the delay must have been a little too much. It had barely cleared the roof when it detonated with a shockwave that nearly took us off our feet, shattered a couple of windows, and echoed for a good few minutes.

You might consider that this could be taken as a bad omen, and a sign to cease the display. Not so! The windows were quickly boarded up and repair people are coming today, and the display continued. The next melodrama to occur involved a firework designed to fire sixty four shots, which would delight young and old with their explosive, then crackling descent. It must be admitted that it did almost exactly what it said on the tin.

The only problem was that the first shot for some reason jarred it free of its bed of earth and onto its side. It then lay on its side and fired sixty three shots directly at the house of our neighbour, probably causing much distress inside as it must have sounded like a siege weapon going off as each shot detonated when it hit the wall of their house.

And still the display continued, though with no further problems.

In other news, Tart is now being cut free for simplicity. Things were fine when all she was offering were fun and games, but now she is poking for more of a relationship and I have already had one with her, which ended badly, so no thanks. Another one down, though a few more potentials on the horizon. I will have to tell you about those should something actually come of them. Affair is still demonstrating more and more interest, I get the strong feeling her current boyfriend is ignoring her, and given that this is one of only two girls I have ever met with a sex drive to match mine it must be driving her insane.

And of course, as always, there is Stalker. She has now taken to sending me pictures, from a range of different e-mail addresses and accompanied by stories. The pictures are quite obviously of her, but for some reason they really do not push any buttons I might have. I think my dislike of her is preventing me from becoming aroused by such images, even though they would should they come from other people.

Party Dresses and Distractions

We may have been a little late for the party yesterday. I take no responsibility for this. All Sweetie would have needed to do was tell me to stop and I would have done. But she was wearing such a nice little red dress, lovely and form fitting. I could not resist it. So we ended up with her bent forwards over the bed, her dress shoved up around her hips, her panties on the floor somewhere, and me fucking her from behind. We did not manage to find her panties afterwards, so she had to go without for the night. Made things easier when we got back from the party and repeated, and in the taxi there and on the way back where I enjoyed fingering her quietly.

We did get to the party in time for food though, and I even did a little dancing afterwards. I do not often dance, so this is a very rare occasion. Food was very nice indeed, three full courses, steak for the main course and creme brulee for dessert.

In other news, Affair is demonstrating more interest. To the point of telling me when her boyfriend is out and asking me to please come up, fuck her, and cover her in cum. Those are her words not mine. There were also mentions of taking pictures of her before, after and during. I may have to scrape the money together to go and see her. I could do with something relatively kinky after a weekend of fairly vanilla.

Oh, last incident with Sweetie was this morning. I woke up horny, and she was asleep. Apparently she does not mind being woken up with sex in the morning, though I am curious what she was dreaming about as my real name is certainly not Mike.