Wednesday, March 3, 2010

breaking the habit

For some strange reason, this song has always given me comfort whenever I was upset or down. Somehow, this song tranquilized my unhappiness. As I was attempting calculus homework, this was the only song I wanted to listen to.

I always found this song somewhat interesting. This is one of those songs that had lyrics that I actually paid attention to. From the first time I heard it, I naturally assumed that the "habit" this song was referring to cutting. The lyrics corroborated this hypothesis. It never dawned on me till a a while ago that this song was actually about drug abuse. The thought simply never entered my mind.

Even if I'm not really influencing my own beliefs to someone else, I think I might be showing what Dr. Sutro calls "projection". Maybe I always just believed this song was about cutting because that's what I wanted the song to be about. I realize that statement sounded completely freaky and emo, but by coming to this conclusion, I think I've found the reason why I listen to this song so very often when I'm upset.

Thinking in retrospect, I usually listened to this when I had an argument with my mom, or if some other family problem was going on. I never turned to this song when I was angry but I just ended up ranting to someone.

Now going further into my conclusion, I think listening to this song is my version of "cutting". It's the closest thing I've got to it, without cutting itself. Whenever I'm in a shitty mood, I always pondered the possibility of cutting, but never could man up to do such a ..task. I did have a brief stint when I cut myself in middle school. But this way of cutting was basically making a very, very slight depression in my arm with one of those mail open-ers. If it weren't for postsecret, I would have never guessed that people used that as a tool.

Great. I now don't know how to end this. Meh. Well, I suppose this method of not harming myself is pretty effective. I mean, I've never sliced my arm, but that's just because I'm too scared of the pain. But I just don't know. I know I wouldn't, but I become more curious each and every time I feel shitty. I feel like I'm being pushed to the limit mentally. My mom always disappointedly lectures me about how she hates that I don't open enough to her. I would, if I knew she could show empathy and understand where I'm coming from.

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