I can honestly admit that in the past few months very things have brought me pleasure. Maybe a smile here and there, but not honest pleasure, but several times a day I look at my scratched up scabbed over arms, or the pictures here posted on my blog when they were first done and there is actual pleasure. A sense of satisfaction. I can’t voice this to my husband because he’s angry at me for doing it in the first place, but I just can’t stop thinking about it, why does my harm bring me pleasure and satisfaction? Anyone out there have an answer for that?