Hey guys! I haven't been on here in a while, since I've been kind of overwhelmed by my acting school. I spend 8 hours there and 2 hours on the bus every day, so I pretty much just eat hashbrowns & go to bed when I get home. But some stuff has been going on that's been putting me on edge, so I figure it's about time I come back for a visit.
See, I'm doing scenework for a performance at the acting school. Ordinarily doing one scene wouldn't be much of a challenge, but this particular scene has been getting to me because it opens on me walking in on my friend cutting. It's some pretty heavy subject matter, and I realized that when the scenes were assigned, but I figured that I'm a mature person & can handle it.
Then I remembered something. My friend Emily told me and some other girls backstage once that she used to cut when her parents were getting divorced. So now whenever I look at my partner Anya drawing a pen across her arm, all I can see is beautiful, kind Emily cutting herself with a knife. I was able to use that to help me make my performance more real for a while, until my own urges started to surface.
A long time ago I used to have these wild thoughts of hurting myself when I was angry, but I was just being an attention whore and I never did anything because I'm really squeamish anyway. But now whenever I rehearse the scene instead of Anya or Emily I see myself drawing the knife across my skin and even though I know that it's wrong and it would hurt and I could even die I know that if I had a knife right then I would do it. I've usually wrestled down the urge by the time I get home but it's really scary to the tiny part of my mind that stays sane. In my mind's eye I can see the scars, I know how I'd cover the cuts, where I'd make them.
It's almost overwhelming, but there's no one I can talk to. I could never look my parents in the eye and tell them, and I love my one really good friend too much to make this her problem. I know I could tell Albin (the scene director) but it's so far into the rehearsal process already, and I know he would tell my parents. I don't want anyone to know, I just want to stop wanting to do these awful things! I'm sitting downstairs alone at night, my parents are in bed, and I know where every knife in the house is, only a few feet away. When I think about it too hard my pulse drops into my stomach and I feel kind of faint and weak. I'm really, really scared and there's no one I trust enough to ask for help.