Pain is the only thing that can ever be counted on to feel good. That is why I self-injure during my frequent bouts of pointless melancholia. But J hates it when I cut and doesn’t let me and threatens me with estrangement if I do. That just makes it so much worse. I don’t think he understands the emotional need, the I can’t cry for some reason, so the emotional pain that’s all welled up behind my eyelids has nowhere to go.
Purely philosophically, what’s so bad about cutting? It causes no permanent physical harm and relieves stress. Kind of like sex or TV. What the fuck is the issue?
J promised he would hurt me real good the next time we’re together, but that’s not for another week and the days in the meantime are gonna be hell.