Today, I stabbed myself.
In the hand. Like the fleshy part below my ring finger on my left hand.
I was at the sex club – fixing the art show so I will stop fucking hearing about it. I had to trim some edges, so I open a very sharp knife. In between the ones I was doing, I laid the knife down – open on the table.
I reached for something – wasn’t paying attention, and stabbed myself.
My reaction led to me stabbing myself again. This time in a different part. I jerked away only to realize I was bleeding everywhere.
Did I say FUCK yet?
I went to the shower area which was nearby – and grabbed a wet-wipe to use to clean up the cut and apply pressure.
Years ago, DJ, my forest ninja, found my knife open on the counter.
“I should email SB,” she said, “and tell him you do not know knife safety!”
Yes, she was going to email my poly partner to tell on me because, she knew, he would tsk me just like she was doing. When I told him that, he chuckled. I would love to say that was the first and only time that she made that threat, but I’d be lying. It has been made many times over the years.
But today, ah today, as I’m trying to stop the bleeding – wondering how the fuck I exactly did it – that I realized it boiled down to one basic things……
…..I should not have left the knife open on the table.
When I realized the bleeding had stopped, I went on a search for a bandage. They have changed so much of the club since the old days that I couldn’t find one. I finally found a latex glove, so I put that one and shoved some paper towels in it to absorb any blood. Then I finished my task.
Later, after I took it off, I realized that the location meant the cut kept reopening. I hit up a store where I bought the right kind of bandage to apply. It also covered the other cut.
I feel so stupid for what I did. I guess my only saving grace is that the knife I was using is extremely sharp. Had it not been, the damage could have been more.e
But still – I cannot escape the fact that as it was happening – my daughter’s voice was in my head pointing out why it happened while SB was in my head chuckling at me.
This is where I mention that after I stabbed myself, I made sure each time I set down the knife – it was closed.
Too little, too late.
But at least I didn’t do it again.