I'm Pouring My Heart Out today with Shell over at Things I Can't Say.
Most of you know my dad is gay and came out of the closet when I was 15 years old. If you didn't, please peruse some background here, here and here. I believe his revelation will always impact me in one way or another, and over the years how it has affected me has ebbed and flowed. The major blow was the day he told us his secret and the few weeks/months afterwards. Next came college, where I lived on my own for the first time and really began to process the issues that resulted from his revelation. Below is a very graphic journal entry written from that time period; a time when I had so many powerful emotions swirling around inside that I didn't know what to do with them all. I took my anger, depression, anxiety, and confusion out on myself. If you are not familiar with the concept of self-harm or self-injury, you can read more here.
The most important thing to realize is that self-mutilation is not about suicide, and I have not harmed myself in over 10 years. If this is too disturbing, please do not read it. And as always, remember that you don't have to like me or agree with me, but you do have to respect me. This is my space. My blog is growing, changing, and soon you shall see less randomness and more reality. This is life, people. We all have skeletons in the closet whether we admit it or not. I am admitting it here.
Moving on. Below begins the actual journal entry from Fall, 1996 (I was 20 years old):
The brand new silver blade bit into the white, trembling skin of my left wrist.
I crouched on the green bath mat just outside the shower stall, trying to make myself small.
My hair was freshly washed, still wet and clinging to my cheeks and the back of my neck. A whiff of Herbal Essence shampoo. It was late on a weeknight, I'd planned it out somewhat.
My heart thundered in my chest and I felt the searing, slicing and it felt good. So I did it again. And again. With immense relief and disbelief at the same time.
Blood, red and thick, flooded to the surface and ran down the side of my arm, dripping.
Drip. Drop. Drip.
Plit. Plat. Plit.
Watching. Like slow motion. Numbness. A separation. Pieces of myself. Breaking off.
Red, paint-like splotches on the grey tiled floor of the shower. My nose was running and tears blurred my vision. I wasn't crying for the pain on my arm, but for the pain in my heart, my soul. Each time the razor sliced into my flesh I felt relief, release, rebirth, a newness. I felt purged and holy and clean. Bloodletting.
The blood flowed freely as I stayed quiet, hovering. I heard nothing save the sound of my own breath and the throbbing beat of blood pumping in my ears.
Pain---what is it, after all? This was a self-imposed pain, so it didn't count. There was a gauzy bandage wrapped around the site of my pain for a while, and now there are long sleeves conveniently covering my pain. But still, that's just the outside pain. There are two kinds, you know. The other is internal, deep inside my heart. It never goes away. I tried to make the inside pain go away by creating a pain on the outside. But that pain proved to be only a temporary distraction.
I'm tired of pain. I think a lot of people don't understand where my pain is coming from. Maybe I don't really understand, either.
It's hard to write about pain. I know it by heart, but I've always had trouble putting it into words, vocalizing it. Yet I don't mind putting words on paper. It's easier than talking about the pain, that's for sure.
Pain is a looming, growling monster that gallops after me. He chases me until I am too tired to run anymore. I trip and fall down and he jumps upon me, howling and writhing and fierce and mad. He won't let me get up and he chokes me, latches onto me. He follows me everywhere, taunting me in foreign tongues. I try not to listen.
I know his words are bad.
(end of journal entry)
And here is a Sylvia Plath poem that speaks to me in many ways:
"Cut"
What a thrill ----
My thumb instead of an onion.
The top quite gone
Except for a sort of hinge
Of skin,
A flap like a hat,
Dead white.
Then that red plush.
Little pilgrim,
The Indian's axed your scalp.
Your turkey wattle
Carpet rolls
Straight from the heart.
I step on it,
Clutching my bottle
Of pink fizz. A celebration, this is.
Out of a gap
A million soldiers run,
Redcoats, every one.
Whose side are they on?
O my
Homunculus, I am ill.
I have taken a pill to kill
The thin
Papery feeling.
Saboteur,
Kamikaze man ----
The stain on your
Gauze Ku Klux Klan
Babushka
Darkens and tarnishes and when
The balled
Pulp of your heart
Confronts its small
Mill of silence
How you jump ----
Trepanned veteran,
Dirty girl,
Thumb stump.
69 comments:
Erin:
You are beautiful and I am crying on the inside and outside for all that you have and are enduring.
I wish I could give you a hug in person and tell you how completely brave and generous you are for sharing your pain and journey of healing with the rest of the world.
I pray that your gift---this sharing of your story---will push you further along toward a sense of healing and closure.
I know for certain that your story, in all its raw honesty, will truly be a source of inspiration to others.
Being honest and sharing every little part of our heart and soul---wounds and all---- is so difficult. I admire your strength and your resolve to be so completely authentic.
Love to you bloggy sister.
Oh Erin! I am so sorry that you experienced so much pain and that you felt release from harming yourself. I am very personally familiar with self-injury and I know the draw it has when the pain is so deep inside. Thank you for your raw honesty and courage. I am continually amazed and impressed by you.
Erin - my heart goes out to you. I have no idea what you went through, but what I see now is a strong, self-aware woman with a gift of experience to give. I hope your story touches someone else in a way that is positive and healing. And I hope it helps you heal in the process.
Ally
Sweetie I just want to hug you so tight and let you just cry as hard and as long as you want. I think each of us experience and release our pains and turmoils in so many different ways. I never self mutilated but I can understand why it would be so healing in a way. Especially when the scars we carry are inside not outside. Especially when it seems no one understands exactly why we are hurting so bad when we seem to have it all together when they see us. The visual makes it real to everyone OUTSIDE what we feel inside.
Just as you cut yourself to ease the pain and make it visible I sold my self short in school and became the harlot, Jezebel had nothing on me. Each with a pain so great it was too much for us to bear, and not enough support it seemed to make it real to everyone else around us..
I love you just as you are scars visible and invisible..
Pain sucks.
Honestly it does.
But you are an even more beautiful person for sharing this with us.
Maybe your pain will help someone us.
I am so glad I know you Erin.
I'm sorry you had to hurt.
((HUGS))
I still love you girl.
:)
I don't know how you wrote so eloquently even while living through that!
:(
You are an amazing woman, friend.
Just amazing.
And Sylvia Plath, she scares me, because I can relate to her SO well.
I'm glad you were able to identify the inner pain and let it wreak havoc for a while, so you have no need to self-injure.
Do you think overeating and not taking care of oneself is is another, more acceptable form of masking internal pain?
I'm quite good at it.
Erin...the first thing is just that I love you. Seriously. I've never met you in real life, but I feel like I have met your heart through your words and your honesty and your openness.
I will always remember the first time I self-injured. I was 8 years old. I beat my head against my wooden headboard over and over again. Hoping that I would bruise. I remember clearly thinking that there was something wrong with me I couldn't express, but maybe if people could see that there was something wrong with me, they would figure it out. They would fix it. I didn't have words at that age to express to someone the sexual abuse that I was living through every day.
As I grew older, I had words, but I pushed those words down and returned time and time again to the self harm....no longer for the hope that someone would see there was something wrong,(I was living in so much denial that I wouldn't admit it to myself) but for the second of pain, of feeling, of release, of punishing myself for things I didn't understand and didn't have control over.
Even as I came out of that denial and began working on healing, I self harmed. Not every day, and like you said, not as a suicide attempt. I did it even after I was married. Sometimes I held myself back from doing, but I thought about it for hours. When life got hard or scary or painful, that was my first instinct. My first thought.
It has been years now since I have self-harmed. I learned how to deal with feelings and issues in other ways......but I still remember clearly each time I did it and how I did it.
Thank you for sharing your very personal story. For showing that there is hope, it is possible to learn to cope, and survive, and live life without expressing the pain by harming yourself. Did I mention that I love your heart? Because I do. You are awesome! Courageous! Strong! Amazing! A Light!
Oh, Erin.
I read your journal entry and was struck by your eloquence in the midst of such internal devastation.
The journaling and your ability to write down your true feelings was obviously enormously healing and therapeutic for you.
My hope is that the writing was what eventually replaced the need to cut. As if the words pouring from your heart onto the page were louder and sharper than the drops and streams of blood.
You are a dear soul, Erin. I am thankful that you were able to move past the need to cut into another, more therapeutic way of expressing your heart and your wounded soul.
Your words do so much for so many. Your gift is compassion and honesty and I for one and thankful to call you friend.
I don't have any eloquent words (as usual) just virtual hugs and a very real love for you.
You already know that I think this is a heartbreakingly beautiful post. So honest, raw, real.
Thank you for sharing such a difficult time in your life with us.
I already emailed you about this but I'd like to add this as well.
Throw everything away about your past, your father, and your story.
Look at you now. Mother of two darling little girls. You busted the odds getting pregnant in the first place.
You have (what seems to be) a great husband.
From what I've seen you have a nice house and a nice kitchen <---had to throw that in there ;)
What I am saying is that self reflection and looking at ones past can help shape your future - but
TO ME you have not let your past control your destiny.
You have grown from it and have become the woman that I am sure your parents are so very proud of.
This might sound cheesy but I am proud of you. Very happy to call you my friend.
You are someone to look up to who's come from adversity and rose above it with flying colors.
Erin - I'm just getting to know you through SDK and had not known about your father.
My heart goes out to you. Know you are surrounded by people who love you.
I love you so much. The honesty you are able to share on you blog simply floors me. Thank you so much for sharing this.
While I never self injured, I certianly felt the draw to feel the physical pain to somehow ease the emotional.
You've let others and me know that we are not alone in what we have gone through and there is hope out there for us.
Oh sweetie...from someone who has done so many things to hide the pain I give you my love and hugs as you face these issues head on. You are brave and you are strong.
you already know how I feel about this, but I just wanted to say that you are so amazing and brave and inspiring. I am happy to know more about you, as well as finding a new friend I can truly relate to. It makes me want to share my stories in the bloggy world.
P.S. I'm so sorry if this doesn't make total sense... painkillers for the broken foot make it hard to think straight!
What a devastating time for you. I can't even imagine the pain you went thru.
and
Here now you are such an amazing women and mother.
I wish I was as strong as you are.
Thanks for sharing such a personal journal entry. Sorry you had to go through all that.
erin
hugs abound.
and i'm saddened to think that people might not follow you because you are vulnerably sharing your heart??
go, i say, …
so real. so awesome. so gritty. such a window to your soul.
nevermind that it's poignantly beautiful writing. seriously, girl. i was in that shower with you watching the blood hit the floor.
as a high school youth leader in my church, we encounter self-destructive behavior often… cutting is something i've struggled to understand. thank you so much for getting a clearer picture of what it means to hurt like this.
i agree with whoever said you have morphed into true beauty… wife, mother, mentor.
blessings to you today and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your willingness to be raw and courageously vulnerable.
Hi Erin
When I read your previous post about discovering your Dad was gay I knew then there must be so much more to this story, how could there not be. It is not really so much that your Dad is as he is but that you discovered your life was not what you thought it was and that someone you loved was not who you thought they were either, doing so at a very impressionable age. There was bound to be fallout.
I've read about cutting and why people do it, that it is for that temporary release and when that feeling wears off they keep on doing it. The fact that you realized the relief was temporary and that cutting did nothing to relieve the pain inside and so stopped shows how very strong you are.
I hope sharing this story with us all is part of your healing process.
Wow.. Raw and intense. I did self-harm in college and even after marriage. Whenever my world felt like it was unraveling and the emotions were incredibly overwhelming. The sense of control and the purging the bright red and throbbing would bring but never enough to take it all away. It was a band aide to the soul....
We all handle our pain in different ways. I love you...warts and all, but you know that. You have become one of my best friends and best friends do not hold any judgments against each other. I think you write in a way that would speak to so many people and think you should think about publishing your journal as a memoir to help other kids and teens that are either going through or will go through what you have been through.
You are a tower of strength and don't even know it. You are loved, adored and have come through the other side.
You are loved and adored...
Thank you for sharing such a deep and personal story. I am so sorry you had to go through so much pain.
Lydia
To know is to love you Erin. You are so strong and true.
I know sharing this with us opens up a large part of your heart to us and I thank you for trusting us with it. I hope in writing this it helps you to continue to work though all these feelings as well.
Thinking of you today and looking forward to the day I can hug you in person and we can share some pie at Lea's... ;)
XOXO
I cannot presume to know how those days must have felt like. I'm sorry you had to go through all that, but at the same time, one can't help but think that those experiences helped to shape who you are now. And even then, your writing must have been like a balm to your soul. It definitely touches your readers now!
I am glad that phase in your life is over, healing has and is taking place. As you can see, you are well-loved, even by virtual, faceless friends. :)
I have always read you and but rarely comment. But so many things about this struck me. My chest was tight as I read first your account and then Slyvia's. I compared how I have dealt with my own pains. Certainly in a very different way, but still personally harmful. And then I think about the heart of it. The brokenness that creates a need to deal. Yesterday I read a post somewhere on mothering. And I think about where things go wrong along the way for people. Is it with their mothers or in your case, fathers, or with other relatives or caregivers. But every one of us, depends on those that are there to care for us, to protect us and guide us. And when something goes wrong, we all find our ways to deal. I'm so sorry something went wrong and you had to find this way to deal. But I can relate to you, not because I cut, but because I too have been hurt by things beyond my control. In my adult life I'm still hurt by things beyond my control. I have found my safe haven though. And I have found my answer. I hope you have found or will find yours.
You are a very special woman and are loved beyond what you could possibly understand. Thanks for your transparency.
I have always read you and but rarely comment. But so many things about this struck me. My chest was tight as I read first your account and then Slyvia's. I compared how I have dealt with my own pains. Certainly in a very different way, but still personally harmful. And then I think about the heart of it. The brokenness that creates a need to deal. Yesterday I read a post somewhere on mothering. And I think about where things go wrong along the way for people. Is it with their mothers or in your case, fathers, or with other relatives or caregivers. But every one of us, depends on those that are there to care for us, to protect us and guide us. And when something goes wrong, we all find our ways to deal. I'm so sorry something went wrong and you had to find this way to deal. But I can relate to you, not because I cut, but because I too have been hurt by things beyond my control. In my adult life I'm still hurt by things beyond my control. I have found my safe haven though. And I have found my answer. I hope you have found or will find yours.
You are a very special woman and are loved beyond what you could possibly understand. Thanks for your transparency.
I admire your courage to share your experience with pain.
It's not an easy thing to do.
But despite your pain, look at you now! A terrific writer, a passionate "green" Mama, and a gift to touch others with your words!
Encore! Encore!
Oh Erin! I have read everyone else's take via your blog on this time, but yours is so different - intense, real, raw, and scary. I will never know that pain (I have my own in different ways) but never what you had to deal with at such a young age. This also makes my heartaches for all those young men and women out there who do this continually and maybe have not the support of inner strength to overcome it. It was exceptionally brave of you to share this...I hope it helped you and I hope it helps others...it is that ind of post - the kind that touches someone and changes their world, because they know they are not alone.
How brave and raw! I have only visted you a time or two during the Mom prom, and have heard about your blog from many other bloggers. But haven't taken much time to visit. You just never know what you don't know about a person. For instance. Your blog is a mom blog(from what I can tell by the "cover of the book") and I would have never expected in a million years to come to your blog and read this honest, raw, piece of you. I think it's so brave that you are sharing this. I'm sorry you experienced this emotioanl pain in your life. Most of all I love that you could have gone through something like this, but grow up to be Erin @ the Motherload! That's pretty amazing!
What powerful writing...I don't know if I had said anything before, but I think that it's really incredible of you to have shared your family's story like you have. It amazing to see all of the different sides and emotions involved in what your family went through. Props to you for having the guts to do so!
those same words then that needed to be written but are raw and sad and desperate are now the words of the new Erin, the girl who has come so far, learned so much and uses her previous situations and talented writer's voice to inspire the whole slew of us!!!!! It was brave of you to share. I'm so glad you did and I'm proud of who you are :)
That was the most powerful, real, honest post I have ever read. I just want to give you a big hug.
"Cutting" is so much more common than many of us know. So sad for you....my heart broke while reading this.
I don't know you, but wish I could have been there for you when you were younger and going through this turmoil.
Marlene
Frankly, I like the raw honest posts, the bearing of souls....saying those things we don't or can't say in any other way is what makes connection in an otherwise unconnected world....
I've confessed things in my blog and while i was always hesitant to do so, personal growth was always achieved from it. It's never easy...but it's usually ALWAYS worth it.
*big hugs Erin*
~hl~
Wow...that was powerful! Thanks for being brave and sharing this with us.
wow, I was crying and had to come back to comment, because the YOU I see here, now, is not this girl. My heart aches for her and for you now, sharing her with us. But thank you, for doing it...for sharing it.
you know that self hurt, self sabatage for me was boys, sex, promiscuity. I heard people call me names, infer things about me but I didn't care, my power came from being able to be powerful over men, to do what I wanted with my body, just like you were.
HUGS, my friend. You are a hero again to me
xo
Thank you for sharing this.
I used to self injure as well. I have not done so in 4-5 years but I think about it almost every day.
The pain, well, you described it perfectly.
Thank you for helping me realize that I am not alone in that kind of struggle and for sharing a part of you with your readers.
Thank you for sharing in only a way that you could. I was a freshman that year and did not know the full story after I joined our sisterhood, but knew some...now it is the truth I know.
You are and always will be an amazing person, mother, wife, friend, and sister (of which I am so glad that I am one of the lucky ones to call you my sister).
Much love and HUGS!
LIOB~Le
Thank you. I hurt myself through sex and bad relationships. It's about finding release, temporary power, escape.
And look at you now! Look at how your words touch so many.
I find that only the most beautiful souls are painted with the deepest, most honest hues. You, lovely, are a beautiful soul.
As a teen and early twenty I almost always had a bruise somewhere on my body. I passed it off as clumsiness, but it wasn't. Sometimes the only way to validate an emotional pain was to create a physical pain. I remember standing in the snow barefoot until my toes screamed, of feeling such frustration that I stabbed myself with a pencil.
And, most importantly, how I learned to separate myself from people who caused me pain, to recognize that only person I needed to control or take responsibility for was me. And the pain lifted when I decided that I did not need to hurt myself nor others to be in control of my own life.
So, please, continue to be courageous, continue to write, and continue to reveal the many colors of your soul.
Popped in to say hi. You're a wonderful writer to take a heartbreaking subject like this and make it so poignant.
Thank you so much for sharing such a raw and honest piece of yourself here. You never know who you might have helped out there with this post.
*so many hugs* for you. You are an amazing person and every day I read your blog I realize it more and more.
Oh, Erin...I completely understand. I have scars left from doing this and it's not something I've ever been able to talk about. Maybe someday. Your eloquent post has inspired me.
Wow thanks for sharing that Erin. I am so impressed with your strength and honesty. That truly was a hauntingly beautiful journal entry.
What a personal and tragic thing to share. I am wishing I could hug and console that 20-year-old you right now. You have turned into a beautiful, smart, strong woman, Erin. I can tell that just through what you share online. Congratulations to you for coming such a long way in your life - and persevering. xoxo
Thanks for being as raw and open as you are and always have been, Momma. Much love to you from across the virtual miles.
You are a gem, I'm thankful to "know" you. :) Big virtual hugs comin' atcha, woman. XOXO
You are such an amazing person and so brave for sharing this with all of us. I love ya and want to give you big hugs when we finally meet one day!
Thanks for sharing that and I am so sorry that you had to go through that. It's amazing the things that we can survive that make us the people we are today.
I could not read the whole post but I love & admire you for posting it and for the 10 years you have not harmed yourself. You don't know who your words may help so they are powerful! Hugs! xoxo
You have got to be one of the most honest bloggers out there, and that is what I love about you.
Your writing touches your readers more than you could ever know.
Hugs!
My cousin was a cutter. I never understood it. Your writing helps it make sense, in an odd sort of way.
Everyone deals with pain differently. I wish I could verbalize mine so well. Thank you for sharing. Thank you for being real. Thank you for being my friend.
Wow are you brave for just putting it all out there! I took a baby step into getting more real on my blog, too...then I stopped blogging.
Probably not a coincidence?
In any case, hmmm...we seem to have had similar child-turning-adult-hoods. I have some interesting poetry of my own that I'll have to share with you one day.
My scars have a different source than yours...but they all bleed the same, right??? :)
I know the strength that it takes to pull yourself out of such a strong place...and I raise my glass to you (well, I would if I drank anyway LOL). You know what I mean. You are strong woman and a gifted writer...and I am happy to call you my friend!!!
Such raw emotion in that post. It is good to hear that you've recovered from that time in your life. It's a good example of strength and what it is possible to over come.
The pain of childhood. One tries to move on, but it holds you inside.
I have a story, different from yours...but the pain you feel is very real to me.
Excellent job, I am so sorry you lived through something other children don't have to.
But you've done an excellent job of placing us in the same mental space as you were in.
Just beyond excellent. I am sorry for this pain...I know that's why you write like a dream.
This must be painful for you to share even now. I hope your bravery helps someone with their own pain. I look forward to reading more about how you got beyond that really bad stuff in the beginning.
Erin, I am struck by what a wonderful writer you were back then, amazing how you were able to put it into words. I wasn't able to do that. I kept a journal since 3rd grade but never talked about my dad coming out or my mother's illness. Having read your story I am beginning to connect the dots in my own story. I also cut myself for a while, it didn't give me the relief I needed so I didn't continue but I struggled with bulimia for years trying to control something/anything in my life. I never really put it all together, that being pulled into the closet by my father caused so much damage.
You have written beautifully about this crazy time in your life. Thank you for having the courage to do so, you will be an inspiration to someone I just know.
You should get another puppy! They're wonderful!
I've never cut myself, but you certainly are not alone in having done it. There are so many reactions to internal torment and it's not for any of us to judge you for it. But, I have to admit that I'm terribly sorry you felt that much hurt and distress to even prompt it.
As always, your honesty touches me.
Erin~ How truly courageous to reveal something so deeply personal.... I so admire your strength and honesty. You are clearly a wonderful woman and mother....many hugs to you!
I love that you are so willing to share your deepest thoughts-I'm sure you've discovered that many of us have similar experiences and believe me you put a voice to it all so well.
sigh. I could go on and on.
I truly believe that one of the great gifts of anything we go through is that someday, we will see how it can help someone else out. Your courage in speaking your truth may save someone's life, Erin. You just don't know. I had a beautiful friend who had scars all over her legs from self-mutilation. Fortunately, she found a path to peace and was radiantly happy when I last saw her. I pray for the same for all who feel the pain you described. Know that you are courageous, and your honesty is one of the ways you open yourself up to receive love back. Whenever you feel a little slump, come back and read the comments here -- or on any of your posts. See what a difference you are making! xoxo Kat
I am hurt for you and always admire how much you are willing to share. Even back then your writing was haunting. You really have a gift, Erin and I am so glad that you've been able to come through so much and can be such a role model for your girls.
I've never cut but I have known so many others that have. I believe that you have helped so many by what you have so openly shared. You never cease to amaze me with how you express your deepest thoughts. I'm so glad that I can call you friend, even if it's a bloggy friend. You give me strength to keep on going!
Thank you for sharing this.
I have struggled with my own self-harm behaviors for years. 13 years, actually. I have not in what, to me, feels like forever but it's still a part of me, ya know? You are so amazingly strong not just for everything you've been through, but for being able to share this. Thank you.
Erin, as always, your writing moves me to tears. I could actually feel your pain from just reading that excerpt from your journal. We've all been in dark places before but you have a way of taking that pain and putting it into words in such a raw, honest manner.
I admire your ability to share your personal experiences, even as painful as they might have been.
Wow, rather nice info. Where will I get your subscription?
Katty Stepman
bug detection device
This now? This I know is real. I've been...well, let's say we're blood sisters, ok?
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