The hardest part of writing these notes is holding myself back from being too vulnerable. But, as time passes, I realise that the will to urge is the force that keeps us moving despite the fear of being seen.
The will to urge is what allows us to chase our dreams even when we experience setbacks. It’s what allows us to speak even when our voice shakes. It’s what allows us to love again even after heartbreak. It’s what allows me to want to hurt myself again even after 1 year, 10 months, and 10 days of not engaging in self-harm.
a vulnerable story
682 days ago, I found myself seated on the floor of my room, blade in hand again. Overwhelmed by the surge of pent-up emotions, I felt compelled to let them out, resorting to the only method I knew. Today marks the third occasion this month where I'm confronted with the same urge; however, this time, I'm making efforts to resist succumbing to it.
"I cut because I can’t deal." When I first encountered this line in "Girl in Pieces," it moved me to tears, as never before had I read a sentence that so accurately mirrored my own struggles. Whenever I'm asked, "Why do you harm yourself?" a flood of shame fills me, leaving me speechless, because I doubt any explanation could truly convey the depths of my reasons to anyone.
I recall the first time I intentionally cut myself. I was in primary school and working on an art project. Although I had used a box cutter before, it was the first time I really examined and considered using it on anything other than cardboard. No; prior to that moment, the idea had never crossed my mind, nor had I seen it anywhere. The first feeling I remember most distinctly is the sense of relief that washed over me. It felt like a heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders, and with each drop of blood falling onto the cardboard paper, it was as if I was shedding all the emotional stress that had been weighing me down.
At the age of 8, I had stumbled upon a peculiar discovery: the pre-pain sensation that offered a sense of relief. From then on, I turned to cutting as a means of purging myself of every emotion I wished to let out—be it sadness, anger, stress, or pain.
By the time I reached 12, I ventured into a new method, experimenting with a lighter for the first time. It happened spontaneously when I picked up a lighter I found on the stairs. Bored of simply flicking it, I pressed it against my skin. As I grew, I sought out other methods to replicate this feeling, such as blistering hot showers, pinching myself, starving myself, biting my lips.
By age 16, I had found solace in the misuse of alcohol and painkillers. Every act of self-harm became a challenge to surpass, and every drink became a test of my limits.
At 20, self-harm had become such a habit that it occurred almost subconsciously. Now, 23 and over a year sober of self-harm, here I am fighting and giving myself reasons not to hurt myself.
A common misconception about self-harm is that it is an intentional attempt to end one's life. Another is that it’s an attention-seeking behaviour. Some people even believe it’s a phase. How long do phases last? Have I been living a phase for over 15 years?
the urge to fight
Not all fights are the same. Sometimes, we battle to resist and refuse to be broken. Other times, we fight to grow and become something greater.
And every day, I’m fighting both.
The urge to fight is powerful, and that’s why we must use it wisely. Unlike the will to urge, which is about steady movement, the urge to fight is about taking a stand. Regardless of how I’m feeling, I find solace in the fact that there is a balance between my will to urge and my urge to fight.
They work together to make sure I’m not fighting for the sake of fighting. They give me strength and purpose. True strength isn’t in choosing one over the other, but in knowing when to move forward and when to stand your ground.
So, I ask you today: Which force has guided you more in your life—the will to urge or the urge to fight?
lulu’s recs for the week
A few things to check out in your free time 👀
To read
We always ask women to speak up against harassment, especially in the workplace, yet it’s women’s month, the week of IWD, and a Nigerian senator is suspended for 6 months without pay (nor investigation) after speaking up about being sexually harassed by the Senate President. In the same week, the Senate President has gone ahead to speak at an IWD event, promising dreams to the remaining 3 women out of the 109 senate members to mark International Women’s Day.
Music is my constant companion when I’m feeling up, down, or somewhere in between. I’ve often wondered if it amplifies my emotions, and this article on Music as Therapy reassured me that I’m not alone in that experience.
To listen
Listening to New Yorker’s episode Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie reads “Chuka” is an experience that will stay with me for at least the next two weeks, if not longer. I’m always drawn to stories about the pandemic because the realisation of everything that happened and how people coped never fails to intrigue me. In this short story, Chimamanda captures Chia’s introspection as she revisits the echoes of her past relationship.
As a person with video anxiety, listening to Video Anxiety & Going Down The Road felt like a peek into my own brain. Having my own fears put into words and recognising the tension between wanting to create and the self-consciousness that comes with being on camera.
On The Documentary Podcast by BBC World, there’s a deep dive into the dark side of TikTok Live and the rise of digital pimps in Kenya. What began as a simple dancing app has become a platform for sextortion, exploiting young girls and women as young as 15. It’s a heartbreaking reality that needs more attention.
Lulu’s Yap station: The best podcast EVER🙂↔️