My wrist is still bruised and I’m going to have an ugly looking scar that everyone will be able to see. I hardly ever cut in places that are visible to others but that night, almost two weeks ago, something had snapped in me. I took a raizor and cut through the skin so deeply that I couldn’t stop the bleeding for quite some time.
Since that time I only cut twice, which frankly is an achievement for someone who has been self harming for last 8 years. That’s how long I’ve been in a state of deprivation of my own mind. Lose ends of thoughts, lullabies of death and dreams of blood.
But today has been hard. I’m tired, in pain, lost and irritable around people. They annoy me, I already know that as soon as I will get into shower, the blood will be running down my right thigh and I will be cutting through old scars that prevent me from wearing shorts and make me embarrassed in front of my sexual partners. I know that I will feel the most amazing bliss and orgasmic like sensations for few – very short I may add – moments and then I will break down and instead of blood, salty tears will go down my face. The silent scream, the one that everybody is so afraid of – because it’s so much more scarier and ‘lonely like’ feeling. I will break down, I will go on about my life. I will go downstairs and smoke cigarette in the rain, then I will place colourful pills on my tongue and swallow them carefully with a sip of water.
I have thought about killing myself for far too many times today. I have imagined how I slit my wrists open, how I will cry and beg. I have imagined swallowing whole bottel of my sleeping pills and lorazepam. I have thought about my own selfish pain and broken mind. Of darkness of the world, clouds and starts that would have accompanied me with the journey to nothingness. I have thought and dreamt and imagined.