My roommate is fairly excellent and somehow managed to stumble upon this wonderfulness online. It made me smile.

I'm back in Fredericton and I was somewhat productive today--not as productive as I could have been, but better than I've been before. I came back to res to people playing Rock Band and getting hugs from Meredith and I did laundry and realized I had missed it, in a way I probably wouldn't have missed it last semester.

I started on the homework Kathleen gave me--answering questions relating to the self-care without injury manual that I have, looking through the first session. Getting stuck on the question "How has self-injury affected your life?" and then realizing I'm stuck because it's not necessarily a question I want to answer: it's made me secretive with the people I care about, it's hurt those around me, it makes me feel like a burden more than anything, I feel like the first thing people see when they look at me is damaged (once they know, at least). It's destroyed relationships in the past--friendships, romantic relationships.

It's sometimes felt like it's the only thing that's left, and I'm sort of just realizing that maybe it feels like that because it drove everything else away. I just did it because it was so much easier than actually fucking dealing with what was in my head, and it was a method of self-preservation that I knew would destroy me but I did it anyway. And I'm only just seeing how much of a struggle it really is: this isn't like when I stopped for two years because the urge stopped. This is fighting off wanting to slice up bits of my body just because I can, because I want to and because it's easier to focus on that than to focus on everything else. This is combat, except I'm fighting on both fronts.

On the non-meta front, I ordered pizza and read philosophy and was a typical teenage girl today.