i used to hurt myself when i was happy, too

hard moments in self-harm recovery + your weekly poem/song

cw // self-harm

My brain doesn’t discriminate between good and bad; feelings are feelings, and they have historically signaled danger to my well-being.

At the height of my self-harm addiction, anything that happened in my life became a reason to cut, good or bad. An incredible first date. The loss of a friend. Floor tickets to the best concert of my life. Fights with loved ones. Work drama. Promotions. Adopting a new pet — if the emotion wasn’t apathy, it was too much to handle, and the only way I knew how to regulate and regain stability was to self-harm.

I am ashamed to detail all the places I’ve self-harmed, but you should know that before November 2020, there were very few places where I hadn’t. School, work, grocery stores, friends’ bathrooms, parking lots, Caribbean vacations — if I had the tools available to me when I experienced an emotion I didn’t want to face, nowhere was off-limits. As I grow older and continue to learn of the addictions my friends have worked through, from alcoholism and sex to drugs and food restriction, I realize that each story is familiar. The need to harm ourselves superseded anything — and everyone — around us. It felt good not to be alone in that experience.

When I decided to stop self-harming, the hardest days became the days when I was the saddest. This, to me, felt logical: I no longer had my most reliable vice to “let out” my depressive thoughts, and I had to find other ways to cope with my depression. So, begrudgingly, I did. I held ice in my hand and took boiling showers. I did wall sits or ran sprints at the gym. I called a friend or I kissed my husband. I cried — a lot. But I didn’t self-harm.

Over four years later, I’ve learned that the bone-crushing feeling of sadness will pass if I give it enough time. But now that I’ve gotten to the point where I can (mostly) manage my grief, my joy, once again, sends me into a tailspin. Happiness can be overwhelming for anyone; this is true. But because I’ve habitually numbed out both the good and the bad, the good still feels threatening.

Here’s my dilemma: it’s one thing to wait for the depressive thoughts to pass, but I don’t want the happiness to pass. I understand that’s not realistic. No feelings are permanent, even the good ones, but I struggle to accept that happiness is another emotion that I have to endure.

Lately, when a self-harm urge is triggered by a moment of impossible joy, I have to remember that if I hurt myself, yes, I will no longer feel overrun and overwhelmed by the feelings I’m experiencing. And, it also means that there will be another moment of joy that I won’t fully experience.

I have spent so much of my life being sad. I couldn’t even talk out of fear of crying. I couldn’t cry out of fear that I’d never stop. Now, I sing in the shower. I yap and yap and yap, even if it means I start crying somewhere along the way. I’m not afraid to have feelings anymore, but it is still so uncomfortable to experience them.

In theory, this will continue to get easier. My proverbial window of tolerance will keep expanding, and I’ll be able to feel every emotion on the feelings wheel without thinking it will end my life if I don’t end the feeling first.

But today, it’s hard. Sitting through my emotions feels like inaction, especially when I have a tried-and-true method to help dampen the feelings (even if that method consists of harming myself).

But also, what a privilege it is to become a person who isn’t afraid to feel. I’m learning that to endure life, I must also endure myself. Allowing myself to be happy takes work, and it takes work to allow myself to be sad, too. And I am so tired. And I am still going.

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write with me in new york this summer!

applications for the Interrogation Writing Retreat (Aug 15-17 in Grand Island, NY) are still open! we only have 8 available spots left! feel free to reach out if you have questions, or you can check out our faq.

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poem of the week (happy belated Earth day):

Letters by Ilya Kaminsky, from You Are Here: Poetry in the Natural World

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song of the week:

31 by Sydney Rose (this whole EP has me in a chokehold, though, so highly recommend if you like sad indie bops about what it feels like to grow up)

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all the love, all the warmth, all the light,

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housekeeping:

• icymi: i made a doc full of book recommendations for people who want to read more poetry but don’t know where to start!

• don’t forget to complete your one click today to support aid efforts in Palestine

• unfold: poetry + prose, is available on amazon, bookshop, indigo, b&n, or wherever you get books <3

• you can still buy paper girl from amazon, barnes & noble, indigo, or your local indie.

• i love you. and i see you. and i am so glad you're here.

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who i am: a writer, a lover, and a very Black + queer person. i love deeply, forget rarely, and spend most of my time cuddling with my dog, my cat, and my partner.

who i'm not: a therapist, mental health professional, or emergency service. i love hearing the stories of your experiences, but please don't send explicit or triggering details of your story without my prior consent. 

if you're in crisis, please call 911 or use any of the following resources:

• National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 988

• National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

• Crisis Text Line: Text HELP to 741741

• S.A.F.E. (Self Abuse Finally Ends): 1-800-DONT-CUT (366-8288)

• Eating Disorders Awareness and Prevention: 1-800-931-2237

• RAINN (Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network): 1-800-656-4673

• The Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386