Life can be so dark sometimes, so unreal.
But somehow we get through it, well most of us do. Some of the people who live in the dark, who thrive on the pain, and unwanted ness, some of the time don’t make it. They give up to quickly. They say, “Oh I’m worth nothing. I might as well die.” And they follow up on that of which they say.
I am one of those. One who thrives on pain and anguish, on the darkness of life, on everything terrible. I take on everybody else’s troubles and make them mine so that I can feel worse. My friends tell me to stop. My parents tell me to stop. Everyone tells me to stop, but do I listen? NO! I want to carry their heavy burdens, at least give me something to carry.
I say I am fine, but no one really hears me scream on the inside. I’m screaming to the top of my lungs underneath all the pain but no one listens to what’s going on.
Right now I’m in the dark, I’m scared and afraid, but I do nothing to help myself, only others.
If you were cold and shivering and blue, I’d give you my coat. If you where blistering in the hot sun, I’d give you my shade. I’m really the nicest person anyone probably will meet, until I lose control.
It’s happened before, all the pent up anger and agony that I haven’t expressed, that hides where no one can see it, just burst out of me like steam out of a kettle.
But after that I thought I knew how to deal, to let go some of this pain relieved, by…by cutting.
It felt so good to let some of the inside pain be controlled by the pain on the outside.
But then after I’d done it repeatedly it was getting harder to get relief, to feel good about what I was doing. So I started to cut deeper, but that never helped either. All it did was give me worse scars.
So I stopped all together, and now I just write it all down, much like I am now. But I usually write it into a journal so I can burn it when I am through. Now I am righting it all out there for people to see, so that maybe they can help me, comfort me, care about me, in someway at least.
