everything changes (but we all stay the same)

chapter eight: the death of spirit

i died long ago.

it happened slowly,
i didn't even notice it.

but now my mind is blank;
empty, void of any tangible or intelligible thought.
i speak words that don't pass through my mind,
they just spout from my mouth like spittle.

i am just a body.
i am not human.
i was never human.

this body may be human,
but my spirit is of another realm.
i dont belong here,
my spirit longs to be released from this fleshy prison.

each day i spend routinely
awaking, yet again,
to immediately take my morning medication.
drifting to the living room where my laptop is set up,
and playing mindless games for hours on end,
just to keep my restless mind busy.

-

i sometimes will eat,
but lately i avoid food.

this human flesh hangs off of me like lead,
weighing me down and pulsating,
the meat of a human trapping my featherlight spirit.

so i starve myself,
and occasionally make myself vomit if i've eaten too much.
i've successfully shed over 50 pounds of flesh
with this terrible method.

it hurts me, makes me sick,
but it does its job.

i am becoming lighter and lighter,
like a metamorphosis,
into the outer realm which i long for.

-

yesterday, i was 113 days clean from cutting.

113 days ago,
i almost died because of my cutting habit.

i accidentally hit an artery,
and fell asleep while bleeding out.
i awoke nearly 20 hours later,
unable to move my body,
feeling so dizzy and sick.

i tried standing,
only to collapse into a bookshelf,
knocking over everything.
i promptly began to vomit,
and got a nosebleed.

i made myself rest for several more hours,
drinking the water i had next to me,
and was finally able to stumble into the kitchen
and mindlessly grab whatever leftovers my family had left from dinner.

i desperately ate the cold rice and corn,
hoping only to regain my energy.

i was sickly and dizzy for nearly a week afterwards.
i was severely anemic from blood loss,
skin so pale i looked like a walking corpse.

...
that near-death experience scared me into not cutting anymore,
for precisely 113 days.
but today, i chose to relapse.

and, dear gods,
it felt so wonderful to finally return to my beloved habit.

i excitedly laid out my favorite blades
and first-aid supplies,
and grabbed the sharpest blade i could find,
and grinned as i swiped it across the soft skin
of my upper thigh.

i watched the skin bloom open to reveal
the white tissue of my dermis,
and peeled it back to watch the dark blood
slowly fill the wound.

i swiped,
and swiped,
and swiped,
and watched as my skin opened up like flower petals,
blood thick and dark slowly dripping,
and the wide smile never left my face.

i didn't even feel any pain.
i only felt joy, and excitement,
because i finally had my favorite destructive habit back.

even as i wiped the wounds with rubbing alcohol,
the stinging pain only made me giggle
as i winced all the same.

my skin is my canvas,
my blade a brush,
and my blood becomes the paint
for the beautiful work of art i am creating
with this human flesh i am encased in.

hours later,
and i still feel so giddy and energetic.

i havent felt this good in months.
i don't even have the urge to consume food,
the hunger pangs feel glorious,
just as the pinch of my blade did.

this is truly my enlightenment.
my spirit is being freed from this flesh,
i am designing it to my liking.

i am so,
so happy.
i will continue to destroy this flesh
to free my tortured soul
and set myself free from this physical realm.