So what first? I suppose this post will be two pronged. A quick overview of the cause of my aforementioned crash, succeeded by a dissection of a symptom.
I have managed bars for several years, and without wanting to sound arrogant or self ingratiating, I am good at what I do. Or was. It transpires that a member of my staff has been stealing money by falsifying refunds through the tills and taking the surplus cash. They have been using my manager ID, and I have subsequently had the blame thrown squarely at my feet by the senior manager. TC, the senior manager, is an unscrupulous and untrustworthy individual. Constantly obsessed with cutting costs in any way he can. It seems that eliminating my salary is one of those ways. So I am being targeted. I do not try to cound like a helpless victim, but those statements are nothing but truthful, I promise. To avoid court we are settling, which is not what I want to do, but British employment law serves the employer and not the employee, so I am stuck between a rock and the proverbial hard place. At least I retain my dignity by resigning.
I am not devastated. I cannot admit to having a strong love for my job. To have it taken from me however, is troubling.
That is all I really wish to say about that. Background has been provided.
I promise I am innocent. Please believe me.
My self harm has flared alarmingly. For the past fortnight, I have sliced my arm almost every day. More so under the stifling influence of vino. I have mentioned self harm before. I am not imaginative, I cut my inner forearms. I do not do it to feel pain. I do not do it for attention. I do it for the release it provides. Sometimes in the chaos of my mind I feel like a soda can, so shaken and ready to explode that unless a opening is created, I may self destruct. I do it to see the physical incarnation of inexplicable torment sometimes. Sometimes it is as simple as I just want to harm my body, and punish my mind.
I came to a realisation Friday evening. I have almost always been in control. I have chosen to self harm. However, I must be honest and admit that recently it has been compulsion and not control that guides my hand. So I have promised myself I will try to stop. Try to funnel my destructive energy elsewhere. Stop trying to etch my sadness into my flesh. I do not need the scars to remind me.
Yet. Sometimes. It feels so good.
I love you all. I am so sorry I was invisible.
Much love, as always,