Ravens

Stay

An Arabic saying goes like this: "You want to die? Then throw yourself into the sea and see yourself struggle to survive".  I've been wondering lately; If I find myself in the middle of the ocean, would I struggle to make it to the surface, or would I accept my fate and let the deep blue engulf me?  I've come to terms with the realization that people's words cannot hurt me anymore.  I beat myself down day after day without stopping. You can hate me all you want but no one will ever hate me more than I hate myself.  The thoughts in my head take over me.  I've never thought of things like this before and I held pride in that. But for the first time, I thought about truly hurting myself.  I was trembling in the cold shower after sitting in the once-warm water.   I had stayed in a fetal position for so long that the shower water began to sting when it came into contact with my skin, feeling as if, if it hit me too fast it would bruise.

I held pride in not thinking of self-harm because the thought of it seemed so absurd to me. Just thinking about how something so undefined as death could bring comfort to anyone. But then I understood. It was that undefined territory that made it seem so pleasurable to our appeal.  I told myself that if I were to carry through with this I'd be leaving so much behind. In some cases that may be true, but the one thing truly stopping me is that the pain never stops, pain sticks to you like a disease, and pain can spread. I tell myself that I have people who care about me even though sometimes it may not seem like it and the thought of me being a person capable of love made me sick. I still insisted.  I may be gone and the pain I felt has finally subsided, but the pain that latched onto me for so long will jump like a tick to the next person infecting them with thoughts similar to what I once saw.  A parasite.  A blood-sucking, life-draining, parasite.

 I don't think I could ever forgive myself if I left the people I care about with that pain and doubt. But that where I'm confused. If I already hate myself so much, what's one other thing to add to the list of things I despise about myself? What difference does it make? But something deep inside of me wants them to feel that pain. A dark, twisted part of me wants to watch them realize how they made me feel.   But I can't.   I promised myself that I would stick around because even if I'm too good for others or I feel as if I'm not enough, I have to stay. There's one person who doesn't deserve that grief.  So little and innocent seeing the world in colors and beauty even if brought up in this age and time.  Wondering why I left. A question that may be left unanswered for the rest of their life. I can deprive that innocence of an older sibling no matter what form. I need to stay.