My mind isn't churning like is usually is 24/7, in fact that's where I'm concerned. For once my mind has settle on one thought. Why live if your living a restricted life?I could specify and I may still yet, in fact I know I will, and you know who you are.It's harsh, this is harsh but this goes beyond what i can politely grasp and respond to, in fact I feel bad even thinking my thoughts but the fact is they are my thoughts and I have that right.
I'm not sure if I'm baffled or angry or really what i am at this point beyond wanting to say so many things and for once in my lifetime lacking the words to do it.
Introduce back story- I like everyone else had a phase if that's how you would like to see this. I had mine, My dad died, I was being beaten up at school, and at home and by my partner, my life sucked I couldn't function. too many feelings and the only way I had control of them was to bleed them away. So that's what I did. It's not difficult to dissect some cheap razor from the dollar store for shaving body hair away and instead cut skin apart. The first time was a piece of broken bottle and what can i say it was addicting, it became a ritual when i was too overwhelmed, then it became a weekly things, then a daily thing. And then what was one or two cuts someplace on my arms became and 6 and 12. I couldn't stand the feelings I wanted them to go away and it was becoming apparent to even me that when your dead you don't feel. My last straw was my ex fiance calling off the wedding the day before. I was 17 he was 24. I was dumb and now I am greatful, then i broke, no, broke is too weak a word my whole fucking world gave out from under me and I fell, hard and fast leaving the remaining pieces to fall on top of me, I spent an hour just angrily throwing his shit into garbage bags for the garbage truck, and then I came across his knife. It was blue, just a simple pocket knife nothing fancy but I do know he had just changed the blade on it only a few days prior. It was suiting He caused my world to crash and he would cause my death too, and I don't do things half assed. I cut and kept on cutting slashing any part of my arm i could get at then switching arms, i cut so deep i could press my fingers under the skin and grab at the tendons, after that I don't remember I blacked out on the cold cement floor in the basement, feeling relief that i felt nothing.
Don't worry though i was found i was shipped off to recuperate and when i came home three weeks later I had a whole new outlook, I got help i saw a therapist every single day, my step mother kept anything sharp in her room under lock and key, she monitored my showers/baths under my request. I got better ...mostly sometimes i slipped but when i did i told someone i even started taking my meds two paxils in the morning and two 12 hours later, I was drugged up all the time but i was alive. It took me a year to finally come to the realization the pills were doing what the cutting was it nullified my feelings. So i quit. cold turkey, no meds no drugs no knives and for the first time in three years I was feeling again. The good the bad the everything in between and i finally got it....and to this day i remember my own story what is life without feeling?? why live?? if i don't want to feel i might as well die. and I don't want to die. life isn't amazing life hurts like pouring vodka into an open gaping wound but figuratively that's happened to me so many fucking time that i cant count them on 10 peoples hands. not even close. and i am strong. i am me. i am nothing more and i am also nothing less. I learned to cope, I love and get hurt sometimes I hate and feel regret for it. But in the end I know i am alive i know i am doing more then just living i am existing because i am feeling.
Now that my story is made clear my mind can grasp why i am so offended/or hurt/ or angered or even baffled by the conversation that took place. simply this harsh as it may be if you know when to sever ties and even though you love you still refuse the bad stuff so i ask this ...why are you living why are you breathing why are you in the meanest terms possible wasting space. you say you want to change the world, you say you know yourself better then anyone you say you have come to terms with who you are i call bullshit, no im not whispering it and i'm not praying you will avoid this post i want you to see and you need to see it I'M CALLING TOTAL AND UTTER FUCKING BULLSHIT ON YOU. if you cant accept feelings good and bad then you are no better then i was and i can freely admit someone should have curb stomped my face into oblivion. you can not change the world if you are unwilling to feel the world you are changing. you don't have a fucking clue who you are but you know and i know and i'd say correct me if i'm wrong but i know for a fact im not. your afraid of judgement your afraid of loss and most of all your affraid of people touching that little place in you that hurts the most the one you have under lock and key, your afraid to open yourself up so fucking completely to human kind...your fellow human kind. so open that there is no choice but inevitable pain.
its not wrong...its not right either. someone or something has fucked with you hardcore and its not place to ask who when where what or even why, but you owe it to yourself to deal with it. or your no better then dead.
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