The Georgia Knitter’s Blog

Okay, so I read Debbie Macomber’s latest knitting book, Back to Blossom Street, and I loved it as usual. I also loved the idea of a prayer shawl. So I printed the line by line pattern off of Debbie’s Site. And I went to Michael’s to buy yarn and stitch markers. Bernat Satin Sport in Beige and Lion Brand’s Jumbo Locking Stitch Markers. And I grabbed my US8 29″ circular and cast on. I’ve fallen in LOVE with the pattern and I could barely tear myself away from it long enough to turn the computer on, let alone type all of this entry, but alas, I am.
So, Tuesday, I went carolling with some folks from church including Lesli and Joel. We had a blast. I can’t go into detail very well because it was a truly happy time and those are truly few and far between and get hazy after mere moments. lol
So, I’m spending New Year’s Eve with my family and Aunt Brandi and clan. And on the first, I’ll be hanging out with Tabby a bit. Haven’t done that since that day that didn’t end right. lol So that’ll be fun.
Seriously, I LOVE Alix’s Stockinette Prayer Shawl. I’ll take some pics with the digital camera of it in progress and post them on here in a little while.
I’ve been cutting myself again. Deal with it, people. Mom thinks I did it during a bipolar episode that I had that she didn’t see, but I didn’t. I did it Friday. I was getting too stressed. People want too much out of me all of the time. Sometimes it’s too much and cutting myself releases it all…at least for a little while, you know? I don’t care what ya’ll think. It’s none of your business what I do really. It’s not your blood on the ground. It’s not your arm. It’s not you getting the looks. It’s not your scars. So butt out.
So I’ve got a new project in mind that I have to have done before the summer. I need elbow length fingerless gloves. So I don’t have to put up with my wonderful family. Can you tell how sarcastic I am? It’s just one more thing that I’ll be compared by to the perky perfect prisses. I can hear it all now….”Crystal never cut herself.”"Ashlee would never do such a thing.”"Casie is a good girl. She’s not corrupted by friends like the ones Margaret has.” And I’ll lock myself in a closet or someplace, growl at anyone who tries to join me, turn my mp3 up as loud as it can go, slice into my arm, watch the blood run out and knit away until I can leave.
“I cut myself, watch the blood seep out and tell it to take the pain away. Blood on the ground is better that pain in my heart.” — Margaret Ruth
It Hurts
It hurts so much.
It hurts so good.
It distracts me for a while
from the reason I did it.
The pain is a rush.
The pain is an outlet.
The pain is minute to the reason I inflicted its pain.
Some are puffy and red.
Some are puffy and white.
Some are faded.
Some are fresh.
Some are barely visible.
Some you can see from a short distance.
I know I shouldn’t do it but I don’t care anymore.
I’ll cut myself,
watch the flesh separate,
let my eyes open wide
when the blood starts to flow,
and I’ll endure the pain
because I know
other things in my life can hurt much worse.
I’ll hide it from the world
except Licia, Britty and Tabby.
I couldn’t bear to see
the sympathetic looks
or hear the admonishments.
I’ll die before I see sympathy in his eyes.
And the rate I’m going it might just end up that way.
I know if he ever found out,
he’d pity me
and try to learn why I cut myself.
He’d try to stop me or worse,
he might leave me without a reason
to stop myself from slicing open my wrists
and watching my life blood pour out.

Cuts and Scars
Jagged lines so ugly and bold
some are red and other, faded white
Some are long and some are not
Some are large and others are small
most are vertical but some are horizontal.
White and red lines against the backdrop of my skin.
Some were inflicted by the tip of a nail file,
others by the teeth of a hair clip,
most were put there by the cold steel of a knife,
two were even put there by the point of a protractor.
But all of them were put there by me.
I needed some control over something in my life.
I decide the size, the depth, the instrument to use and
the number too.
So when things in my life don’t turn out right,
or my brother abuses me,
or things don’t go according to plan,
or the pressure gets to be too much
I slowly slice into my skin
and as my blood trickles out,
my stomach turns and I grow faint,
I cannot bear the sight of my own blood,
and I think to myself
“If he only knew……..”
Sometimes my arms are bandaged up real thick
and I have to go to church or shop,
people think it’s my cats or my fights.
They would never believe
that that happy and sometimes angry girl
who’s always got a smile-oh, so hollow-
could ever do this to herself.
Well I can and I do.
So I watch the blade
and my eyes follow the blood
and pretend like everything’s okay
and hope to God some people don’t find out.
Maybe one day I’ll stop,
when I have control of my life
but not until that happens.
So I’ll cut myself,
deep and long,
to stop the pain from closing in.
I need a reminder
to remember not to cut
as much as I’d like.

Okay, I just signed up for Ravelry {I’m Mizuko if anyone else is on it} and I can’t wait to get raveling, lol. Laters.
Merry Christmas!