Self-Injurious Behaviors

I am having some personal crisis that only became aware to my brain this morning while standing naked in the bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. As I looked into the mirror, I spied with my little eyes exactly 11 bruises on my person. 11!!!

Now, I can only account for 4 of the 11. For example, the embarrassing one gracing my belly just below my belly button was from being friendly while mowing the lawn last weekend. My neighbor waved to me as I was mowing and little did I know that I would run head on into the grave stone AKA those things that are in your yard that all those wires are in and ram the handle of the lawnmower into my belly. Not only was it painful but embarrassing especially when my neighbor laughed, shook his head, and gave me not one but two thumbs up. I felt like a dumb ass!

The small one on the toe of my right foot was me getting in too much of a hurry while emptying the dishwasher in-between patients and dropped a damn pan on it. I said several choice words but I won’t print them here. That hurt like hell! I wonder if the damn thing is broken because it has several colors to it. Man I don’t have time for a broken toe!

The one on my hip was when, in hast, I tried to get past my husband in our small kitchen and he was taking his sweet time pouring his sweet tea, good Lord, so I’ll just try and slip in-between the countertop and my husband when WHAM, I nailed the corner of the countertop and said several more choice words followed by my husband saying, “Well, love, its your own fault Ms. Impatient.” I wanted to come back at him and say, “Well, if you wouldn’t move as slow as a damn drunk slug, maybe I’d have avoided a hip injury!” But I didn’t. I wanted to though.

The one on my left inner arm is from repeatedly having to empty the riding lawn mower buckets about 283 times while mowing our backyard last week. I was trying to surprise my husband who kept saying, “Man, I need to cut that grass.” He has said this for the last 2 months. Yes, the backyard grass has not been cut in 2 months because we have had no rain at all. Now, the part of the grass that did need cutting was the back part near the barn because it is all crab grass and although it had stopped growing, it was still long enough to need cutting. Well, genius me lowered the cutter too low evidently and had to empty out the grass catcher so damn many times, I believe the bruise on my arm might be permanent.

The one on my shin was from falling up the stairs, again, in hast, because I had an abdominal attack of epic proportion either from bad fish or a stomach bug. Let me just say this, I barely felt the fall onto my shin as the pain in my intestines overshadowed it by a mile or two. After recovery, I now have a fat ass bruise on my shin and it looks quite nasty. I hate bruises on my legs, it makes me look like I’m 2 years old and learning how to walk.

Now, the other 7, well, let’s just say that I have no Earthly idea. Maybe I’m being beaten in my sleep by elves, I’m beating myself up at might while I sleep, or who the heck really even knows. All I know is I have 11 bruises on my person and they ain’t pretty, y’all.

Part of my problem is that I get in a hurry trying to get the 124,789 things I have to do each day. I am not the queen of multi-tasking although I try but I have bruises from my attempt evidently.

I find it quite fascinating that I can lose so much track of my person that I can’t account for all the bruises! That tells me a couple of things.

I have entirely too much on my mind and must completely ignore pain inflicted to my body.
I might be losing feeling throughout my body, who the heck knows.

I think my point is, I need to slow the hell down, stop and smell the roses, and breath. Just breath, y’all! We got this!

Love y’all!!♥