Sometimes I don't think survival is a word I can use, the damage runs too deep. I have managed to limp along and I fall way too often and have to grasp for the smallest thread to pull myself along by.
This weekend is one of those falls. Everywhere I look I see despair. My mind reels as it goes back to holidays past. It isn't as simple as a hole inside me, it is filled with the garbage my father filled everyone with in his path.
Self harm may not be a FDA approved method of dealing with intense self loathing, but it works.