The Fine Art of the Fight (TW)   Leave a comment

*****Trigger Warning: this post references self-harm*****

I default to survival mode when all seems lost.  This means that I’m more likely to seethe than I am to address something that bothers me straight off.  For all of my belief in open and honest communication, I’d rather not say something that hurts someone I care about; it’s not conducive to keeping the status quo.

But sometimes I just can’t help it.  The seething turns into a boil and BANG! goes the lid, and the contents of my brain come roaring out in a great hot flood all over whoever happens to be standing near me at the time and, it seems, especially if that person is someone I care for.  This is not conducive to survival, and Slytherin!me gets extremely pissed off when I do this.

As she should.

This Thing that I do is not fighting – it’s more like verbal assault, and it beats at people until they want to do everything they can to get away from me.  And no matter how sorry I am…and I am sorry…it doesn’t undo anything.  I can apologize, and I do, until the rivers go down and are fordable again, and the cows come home, and it doesn’t fucking matter.  The damage is done, and now it’s a matter of bringing in the team to assess what can be repaired and what can’t.  And the assessment makes me afraid.  I’m afraid that one day the bridge will be irreparably broken – washed away in the flood of vitriol that pours out of me – and all who are caught in its wake will be swept away.

There’s a subtle art to a fight, and sometimes I am very good at it.  I’m capable of seven-hour arguments where pauses happen to handle life, and no one is permanently damaged, where both sides end up understanding, if not agreeing, and the terminus is compromise.  But…there are times when I cannot see the nuances and steps to take and its in these times that I end up cutting to wound, and when it’s over I want to curl up in a corner and never come out again.

Tonight was one of those times.  And for all that I do not want to hurt myself afterwards, I do.


Posted July 6, 2015 by veggiewolf in Depression, self-esteem, Triggers

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