Why is it when I “mess up” I start performing destructive behaviors for myself? Or against myself? Whether it be scratching my arms till they bleed, or binging till my stomach is read to burst, or withholding food until my stomach feels like it’s eating itself?
Is this normal behavior for someone like me? I mean I get it’s not “normal” per se, I’m not that delusional but why when I make a mistake or am “bad”, or any host of other emotions must I punish myself?
This morning I woke up to an overdrawn checking account. How can that happen you ask? You just got your tax refund you ask? I wondered the same thing. I paid the bills, then I went to the bank, wrote a check out to myself withdrew all but $100 or so I thought…. apparently somewhere along the way I overdrafted us over $500 dollars. So far that has resulted in 1 $20 fee. But there are 2 things that haven’t cleared. So now I am going to have to be at the bank then they open to put the cash back. That $500 was supposed to be our cushion. Our emergency money if all our benefits stopped, or if something happened or we needed money quickly. It probably would have helped to buy the kids each a birthday present or something equally important as that. And now, because of a math error on my part (that I can find mind you) *poof* it’s gone. How did this happen? Did I add instead of subtract? Did I just not subtract something? I have no clue, I can’t for the life of me figure it out, and for the next 15 minutes I am going to feel sick with worry that something else will clear and more fees will be assessed. I want to puke.
Which brings me to self-destructive behaviors. First I redid the register 3 times, after the 2ns time I ripped the whole thing up and started over because I couldn’t get the balance to work. This time I “think” (hope) it works and I will go to the bank for it’s 9am opening. After that was done I poured a HUGE bowl of cocoa pebbles, with a banana in it, like so huge I could feel my stomach reaching capacity. Then I walked over to the microwave where the dunkin donuts we bought yesterday were hiding pulled out a chocolate glazed and stuffed that down too. MY stomach feel like a balloon about to burst, it’s past capacity and I feel like it all could come flying up and out at any moment. And yet the punishment wasn’t enough. I scratched both my arms till I could see small bits of blood. Till the almost healed scabs were all scratched off, till my skin was burning like a sunburn in July. I am still not satisfied, and I am not sure if there is a punishment I can give myself that will scratch that itch.
I also realized I forgot to call dad yesterday. Which means when I call tonight there will be hell to pay. So rationale would say just don’t call, but I will obsess about it until I call him. And then I will have to apologize, eat crow, get yelled at, be made to feel guilty and then the cycle of self-destructive behavior will start anew. Sometimes I really think it would be easier to drive my car into a tree. Not necessarily to die, but to hurt myself bad enough that no one would expect anything of me for a while. I wouldn’t have to call anyone. I wouldn’t have to do the bills, or cook, or clean or make decisions that affect anyone else’s life. I have told hubby when he’s done working he’s doing the bills. I am obviously incapable of handling them on my own. At least right now.
I hate myself, so much it hurts, and I want it to hurt more.