This poem which I wrote in April 2011 shows me how far I have come: I hardly ever bite myself anymore. Self-harming through biting the inside of my mouth or the tops of my fingers where a companion of mine for over 30 years of my life.
It has never become apparent to anyone because I did not do what many who self-harm do: I did not cut myself. You cannot normally see the inside of someone’s mouth. This sort of reassurance that my pain was real was a very private matter to me until I realised sometime in 2011 that it wasn’t a very healthy habit.
But it needed until late 2015 or early 2016 that I was able to stop it at will. Mindfulness might have helped with it because I often did not realise I was doing it. I only realised it when I had a sore bit in my mouth or my finger. I used to bite deeply.
This poem though seemed to have marked the beginning of a change in my life. And no matter how much I still feel the pain and how much my mental health still suffers: I am today in a much much better place!
big chunks of skin
I have a look at it