What I…

Am not, is a liar. I do not encourage anyone to start what I’ve done to myself. It started with one little scratch then dozens of little red lines up and down my arm.

It hasn’t ended, it has taken a break from me sometimes, but it comes BACK. There are days when you know that trudging to the bus could be your last, things could get too out of hand… in your head. Everything is fine on the outside. Your black sweatshirt has been well intergrated into your peers, you’ve been wearing black sleeves since that first tiny scratch. You don’t wear black because you hate life, it’s the only thing you find comfort in, dark cool colors that remind you of the black blur of life as it whizzes past you with change while you sit there with a sharp in your hands.

It’s not the life that pleases you about the blur, it’s the not remembering the people who will cause more pain later on. Your friend wants to hug you, inside you scream “No! Stay away!” Because your arm is sore, because you really don’t deserve the comfort of human companionship. You feel worthless. You hold on to a few things that keep you steady, a song, a book, nature. But they get lost in the blur. And it’s not just that the world is leaving you behind, you are terrified of the future. Will I get caught today? Will I go too deep? Will this get infected? Can I cover this up before my mom gets home?

So when the day is over and you have the night hours of peace and quiet, you are sitting up in bed in the dark, silently crying. You curl up in a ball and let the worthlessness overcome you, as you rip yourself apart from the inside out. Drama, social groups, the mall are all places that are toxic. They cause more guilt, more pain. Stay away you, scold yourself, you are fading away, let your self go! Your screaming in your head now. Your towering over yourself just like your father does when you do something wrong, telling you all the flaws you have, telling you how stupid and pathetic you are. And then the clock on the mantel strikes three, and you collapse and fall asleep, having dreams of trees, hearing your song play back and forth through your mind. And your dragging yourself out of bed 3 hours later, arms sore, head spinning. And you start all over again, but can you fight the battle at the end?

~ by lingeringmemory on January 29, 2008.