Do you ever wonder 

how life would be different

if that one thing

had never happened?

 

It occurred to me one day,

speaking to a teacher-friend

(an odd mix of power struggles,

I know, let me speak)

that I was hitting myself.

 

Self-punishment has been a thing for me 

ever since some people found they could punish me

for things that weren't bad-

I made them look bad.

 

But then I remember that they called my mother

long ago, when I was in third grade at most,

complaining I hit my head against the wall

repeatedly, hard, violently,

when I didn't do what I wanted just right.

 

My mom told me she used to do that too,

and that I should stop, or at least do it softly.

I never stopped, just moved on to making people 

not worry, never wonder, try not to show their fear.

 

It's failed.

I left marks when I stuttered.

I got a concussion from frustration.

And I scared my prof misgendering.

 

Self-care isn't just feeding, meds, and sleep.

It's recognizing that hurting yourself compulsively

is not the same thing as accidentally.