I have come to the conclusion that when I get hurt, I act like a wounded dog. I operate on pure impulse, biting left and right, without even realizing where or whom I am biting. However, in the defense of some dogs, I might be more like a dumb dog. For example, Nico never hurt me even when I knew I was hurting him, like when I was trying to clean up a scratch or an infection. But of course, I also knew how to handle him. I knew that I needed to stroke his hair first to calm him down, to have him stay in contact with my body at all times, so that he would feel more at ease, so that he knew I loved him. Maybe that’s what I need: someone that knows how to handle me, someone to put me at ease. I must be realistic, though. It could be too much to ask of anyone to set aside their own impulses to avoid responding to my bites.
To anyone to whom I have been unkind: I am a dog, a dumb dog. Ou si vous preferez, a bitch. But I am sure that if I did hurt you, you hurt me first. And then you did not know how to handle me. All I am saying is this: I am sorry. But, at the same time, I am not, because you asked for it. Yes, I know that this is not much of an apology, but this was not meant to be one. I am just trying to understand myself better.
