Have you ever felt this way?
You just feel so broken, your whole body shakes. When a glass breaks, sometimes instead of falling apart at once, the glass is held in place by that thin relation between the pieces, that desire to stay together despite the sea of cracks. My body felt the same. Full of cracks, like breathing with a little force might also lead to scattering of those tiny pieces. My downfall.
Tears leaked before I knew it and my body shook with every sob. I knew I couldn't be too loud, or be heard over the music that played to drown out my sobbing episode.
I was in no mood to leave the house. By brain wasn't working well enough to be able to cope.
I was losing it. Being out felt good. I drank.
I wanted to be numb, and guess what , I was numb.
My brain crawled back into it's shell. Like never before, like it never does.
I felt numb, do u see the irony?
The feeling of not being able to feel anything. Ecstatic. Like my feet were back on the ground. The load on my chest over my heart had been decreased and I could hear my hammering heart again.
I left again. This time it felt like a dozen of butterflies were trapped in my stomach. The feeling of dropping fifty feet below. No ground, no surface, just the tingling feeling in your stomach.
Soon it changed.
It felt like a hole. A black hole, or probably nothing, like my upper body was barely connected to my lower body and there was a huge gaping hole in between.
My throat felt dry and parched, while the sensations in my head had begun to conquer the war of numness.
It was getting bad again.
I just wanted to be back in my room, on my bed curled up in a ball.. like I had been on the bathroom floor before.
I couldn't wait. Each second dragged on and got painful.
I was back. I locked my room and thew myself on the bed and folded my legs to my chest, as if trying to cover the hole.
Within seconds of joining the two body parts which were earlier separated, tears began to roll down.
My body didn't shake this time.
I needed to cut after years, I needed to retain my sanity. I started looking for the little knife I had lost.
I couldn't find it. I began clawing at my hand with my nails. Soon the cross that I had made had swollen and was protuding.
I was crying , silently, eyes fixated on a point, brain whispering things I couldn't even comprehend.
I found myself lying on the floor. I tried to pick myself up with a lot of effort and looked at the mirror.
Makeup running down, hair in a mess, like I had been run over by a truck.
I knew I couldn't let myself cry more or my eyes and nose would redden evidently.
I changed and put on my mask.
The smiling one.
