Due to the nature of the topics we covered today, the belligerent and stubborn angry “teenager” emerged. I took up more of S’ time than I should’ve because I refused to acknowledge that I’ll be okay for the rest of the week.
The “teenager” decided that she wanted to hurt herself. S asked me if I’d be safe for at least today, and I said I don’t know. I said that I want to reach into my bag and grab my knife to hurt myself with. The “teenager” is so angry. So angry at myself.
Something we talked about really triggered the anger and I was hateful towards myself. Hateful, stubborn and angry. I wasn’t hating S per se, but I was definitely a little angry that we talked about some stuff that I didn’t want to. Then I turned the anger inward and I started hating myself.
When I left S’ office and walked into the elevator, I punched the wall and hurt my fist because I had to relinquish my knife to S. He asked me if I felt like I needed to go to the hospital. I contemplated it. It felt like a good idea but I also know that I need to go to classes and be the rational adult that I am.
I’m in class now. I was feeling really dejected as I walked out of CAPS. I stood outside the building for 10 minutes, contemplating the roof of the parking garage across from the CAPS building. Then I started to walk to campus, looking at the ground as I walked. As I neared the main road that runs through campus, a classmate of mine broke my glum thoughts by calling my name. I looked up and instinctively put on the mask that I always wear when I’m out in public. I forgot to put that back on when I exited S’ office. Only S, CAPS staff and Hubster really ever gets to see me without my mask on. My classmate walked with me to class and at this point, I think that was really the only thing that prevented me from hurting myself.
I know I made S worry. I could see it all over his face. I feel bad about that. But I can’t stop the “teenager”. I wish I could.
“We’re in the middle of it now”, S had said as we ended. “And I know it doesn’t feel good…. But you will get through this, Jules…”
The “teenager” refuses to believe him. Even now. I hope I can convince her that she’s going to be okay.