Self-Destruction Is the Small Things

We all know what people think about when you hear "self-destruction": self-harm and destroying things come to mind first, don't they? But self-destruction is more than just self-harm.

We've all heard the saying "it's the little things that matter the most." That saying is true in terms of things like this, too.

Self-destruction is more than just cutting yourself. It's more than scraping layers upon layers of skin away in the name of control. It's more than trying to kill yourself.

It can be drinking caffeine even though you know it gives you panic attacks.

It's showering with water that's a little too hot or way too cold.

It's crossing the street without looking both ways.

It's ridiculing yourself and your problems.

It's skipping meals.

It's depriving yourself of food.

It's staying up late when your body is screaming for you to just go to bed.

It's walking outside without sunscreen when you know you burn easily.

It's not wearing enough layers when it's freezing out.

Self-destruction masquerades around unsuspected because it's all the little things that people don't see. You see the girl with scars on her wrists and you know she's depressed, but what about the straight-A student with unblemished arms. Do you see her studying in the library during lunch, skipping food? Do you see her late nights, working on projects when she knows she should be sleeping? Do you see her wearing too many layers in the summer because she wants to sweat out all the water that she "shouldn't have had"?

Do you see the hidden self-hatred or do you see what's so obvious, everybody should see?

Many of us are guilty of just assuming that they're going to eat later because we don't see them eating now. Or perhaps they're on a diet. "That's okay."

We see the people up late studying and we think them diligent. We don't think about how they're ignoring their body's calling them to stop and rest. "That's okay."

We see the people who wear shorts in the winter and claim they aren't cold and we think, "maybe they're just different." And maybe they are, but what if they're not? "That's okay."

"That's okay. You're okay. Everything's okay, because you're okay. You aren't hurting yourself. That's good."

Self-destruction isn't the scars on your wrist. The scars are the healed. Self-destruction is the thoughts you use to tear yourself down when you're already low enough. It's the aggressive ways you attack your body because you hate it—you hate yourself.

It's when you starve yourself or when you overeat, when you skip drinking water until you're dehydrated or you drink so much water that it's the only thing in your stomach, when you deprive yourself of nutrients you know you need, or when you take too many supplements when you know you shouldn't.

Self-destruction isn't always cutting, but it's always self-harm in some way. But people don't see that.

That's okay. It's all okay."

My question here is: Why are we saying it's okay? Are we trying to pretend it all away? Are we all so reluctant to face the truth?

Things. Aren't. Okay. I'll say that again and again until people understand that I'm not saying that just because I'm being pessimistic. It's okay that things aren't okay, but you have to face the truth either way. Self-destruction is never okay. It feels great when you do it sometimes, maybe you feel like you've done exactly what you should be doing to yourself, but it's not okay.

I'm not judging. I've been there, I'm still there some days. I still get the thoughts and I hate that I slip low enough to think that they're okay. In that moment, it does feel like they're okay, but in the end, we always wake up from that "trance" and realize what we've done.

You lay in bed, awake because your stomach is empty and it's hard to fall asleep when hungry.

You shiver and for a moment, you wish you'd dressed warmer for the occasion.

You wish that you hadn't broken off your relationship with your friends. You could really use some companionship, even if they just berate you.

Self-destruction is the little things, Warriors. It's the things that we think are good, but that betray us. It's the things that keep us up at night and regret but we do them again next time. It's not our friend, but we keep it close. It's an addiction that's hard to break free of.

It's not okay.