I accidentally cut myself last night while I was trying to slice a lemon. (Ouch! I know, right, a lemon of all things!) Probably does not help my situation that I was using a steak knife to cut it. (I like the serrated edges because they grab the skin.) Well, this time it didn't grab the skin and it just slid right down the side onto my index finger. Its a relatively small cut. Deep enough to be beyond a paper cut, but short enough to be less then noticeable. It liked to bleed, but I eventually got it under control in just enough time to make and enjoy the hot Toddy I was preparing.
So, this morning, I woke up and noticed the cut. It had that familiar tightness around the skin and twingy way of smarting when touched. Surprisingly, it also had guilt. (This is the point in the blog when you begin to realize why I decided to write about a small, kitchen cut.) Why guilt? What was I feeling guilty about? Then it arrived to me. Every so often, some unseen force, benevolent or malicious, bring me gifts from my past. Sometimes just trinkets but other times its an all out field trip. Today it was a trinket.
I sit here and finger the small cut and muse on my inappropriate feelings. This cut represents something very familiar to me. Today when i cut myself, its an accident. I don't intend it; and when it happens, it hurts and i don't like it. But, not so long ago, i cut for pleasure. I would cut for release. It was my "savior of Sundays". This was the day I cut on the most. It was a friend to me. However, the next day, I would feel the familiar tightness around the skin and twingy way of smarting when you touched it. Guilt would follow. If there was enough guilt, it would evoke enough overwhelming emotions for me to need to cut again. I was trapped.
I have been clean from Self-Injury since 2002. Sounds like long ago, but on mornings like this, i feel as if it were breathing at my shoulder. My past is a monster that can run up from miles away at the smell of blood. I can smell its odor as it drools and heaves at my back. It is hungry to devour me again, even if it has to slowly take me piece by piece. It watches me now as i write this, wondering where I will conclude.
Today, I am free. Today, I have a will to resist. Today, i am in my right mind. I am sound enough to cry out for strength and feel its God breathed power in me. Today, I am not at risk of being eaten. My monster is disappointed. It slumps away, and I am happy that it has been defeated for now. But I am disturbed by its ready presence. It continues to exist, and it is still hungry. The threat looms over me, impending. I still live a life where I can be stopped still by a whiff of drool and a thought of hearing heavy breathing. Is it there? Will it come tomorrow? What minor instance will bring it calling next?
Today, I am free. Today, I can relax. Today, all I have is a small, accidental, cut on my finger.
