Instruments of Distruction

It all started about ....um let me see.... when I was about 11 years old. I remember watching this programme about a tribe who lived...god I can't remember, but they lived with some rare ideas of how to survive. One particular episode had a profound effect on me. I say 'profound' because it was horrific. . yet I can remember it as though it was yesterday, but I know it won't have the kind of effect on me as it did all those years ago. I lost sleep over it, became distant, nervous, uneasy. I couldn't eat. I retracted into my own little world, which was easy because I was having trouble at school anyway. I was tall and lanky, my teeth were built like a horses, they stuck out with, and still have a gap between my front teeth, room enough to get my tongue through sideways. I had no self esteem. Now I can hear you asking what has my tongue got to do with losing sleep etc?! It doesn't have anything to do with that. I was merely stating that to have witnessed such a traumatic incident on a TV when I was 11 years old, was some thing that effected me long term. This was the very first time I started to self destruct. I got upset talking about what I had watched, what had happened, and in great detail I reeled off from start to finish. In detail, with tears rolling down my face, followed by nightmares every night for weeks. I was seen by the doctor, my parents got worried when out of the blue I started wetting the bed, this adding fuel to my in depth worry. Looking back I guess I was a troublesome child. Biting my finger nails was another bad habit I picked up, picking the skin around my fingers was another, until the point of making them bleed. Being picked on and bullied at school. So..... where am I going with this? Any child can bite their nails, yeah it's a disgusting habit, most kids did/do it right? I had to go one step further. I started to scratch the skin on the back of my hands.... and scratch...... and SCRATCH, until I made them so sore I'd do it all again, adding spit so the friction wouldn't burn. For god sake I was worried about friction burns and I was persistently scratching
my now red raw flesh, it would eventually bleed, but I would wait until the next day when the wounds had dried up and I would start all over again. This went on for days/weeks/months! So you see I started to 'self harm' at a very young age. And I know from the deepest part of my 'child' world that it has dented my self esteem, and up until recently it did, dent my self esteem.
It's hardly surprising is it that I've continued when the shit gets thick, I bring out all the sharp instruments and start carving myself up again. I guess I was an early developer! I have to say I did eventually stop pissing in my bed. Biting my finger nails came much later in life. My nails are much different now, I take more pride in them. I know for a fact that children have good imaginations, but what I saw on that programme left me effected for a very very long time, some thing in me altered, I wonder if it was an omen. Was there a message, from another world. Or was it the fact that I was a strange child, different from all the rest. They weren't picked on and bullied at school, I was, my life at high school was a living hell. Yeah ,I was tall and skinny and had crooked teeth. I believe deep down in my soul that what I experienced from the age of eleven was the making of who I am today. I have, I believe I've grown in strength. I also strongly believe that for all the bullies in my life were there for a reason, they were a test for me. Sent by my guardian angel.. a test? So had I not have witnessed that awful film thirty seven years ago, and gone through all that physical crap, would my up bringing have been different? Would I not have been bullied? Would I have grown up whole? It's a shame I couldn't have grown out of this harming process, even into my adult life I've cut myself, but I've graduated from scratching to using real instruments of destruction. It's amazing how clean a cut you can make with a brand new razor blade, the sharper the better, like a hot knife through butter. Then I have all these scars, all self inflicted of course, by yours truly. So you see I still have this stigma, that has followed me through the ages. I have however tamed this heat that some times just devours me. Why do you think I have so many tattoos? They cover up the bad stuff so I don't have to remind myself of the bad times.