Addiction

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      Drip, drip, drip, drip the sound of blood dripping off of my razor blade is self serving for it in the fact that it brings me a release I can not explain.

       It all Starts when I try to hold everything in, I don't talk to anyone about my problems I just keep them inside until It builds up over time. It's like a bathtub filling up with water. The water keeps going till it reaches the top, but then the water still flows out of the spout till it over spills and causes a mess. And I guess my life is kind of like this in a way also.

      It then proceeds to me getting mad that I can't do anything about my situation, given that I am only 15 years old. I burn with red hot angry that consumes me. I then burst out into tears because I can't act apon my anger. I'm too afraid that I may never be able to come back to the person I am once I do.

      I ponder and pray for these memories to become clear and precise. I pray to heaven up above, to my God "I beg you.... I beyond beg of you to give me the power to remember what he did to me..... a flash back... a nightmare just please let me know what he did!!!" I only have faint blury memories of the horrific event..... and everyday I pray the same thing. And still no answer from God, no response.

      I am haunted everyday, every waking and sleeping moment by the thought that more happened then what I remember. I cry myself to sleep at night just hoping that God hears my prayers.

       That's not the only thing I battle, for I have many demons at bay that I struggle with. Each demon broken, twisted, dark, shattered, burned, cut and bruised in there own tortured way.

      Another demon I struggle with on a day to day basis is one often not talked about. It is shamed in the community of elders. It is the one I call Addiction.
It's like a heavy 10,000 ton boulder that I carry on a daily basis. It causes me pain and scaring that I never thought was possible. Well most may see it as something you do for attention, I see it as a drug.

       What people don't really realize about this is that it is just like any other drug an addiction. I have used this method or drug for years to cope with the unimaginable.

       My family found out that my life is barely holding together at the seams and they want me to just quit cold turkey. But what they don't know is I die everyday inside without this drug to keep me sane. I have always put on a fake smile and pretend to be happy, to laugh. They could never tell the difference. They still can't. But now that they know of my dark secret they think it's easy to quit just because they ask me to.

      They think that just because they know of my problems I am just fixed and I am happy... it takes time to heal and to learn how to cope with the damage done to my fragile mind.

      I hate the fact that even though they say open u,p talk to me, I am here for you. They judge me, they don't understand. They say I use my illnesses as an excuse... just like your mother they say. How dare they speak such words to me they don't know what it's like to live in such pain. To feel unloved, unwanted, broken, abused, abandoned, a burden and a complete fuck up everyday.... of every single moment.

       Sometimes I just wish I could be killed in some horrible accident. But I want to feel the pain and torture that comes with it.

       I crave the cold metal against my skin. My body yearns for me to induce the pain..... just to feel happy for one brief moment. I can't even begin to explain the feeling.

       I hate my body and everything about myself I wish I was never born... I am the worst mistake my parents every made...... and worst of all I hate myself for being a coward and not being able to just end all this pain.

      I wish someone would come and take me away. But that is only in my dreams and even there I still feel pain.

      I take my cold metal blade after everything has builded up....... and explode on my body. Creating art on my canvas. I carve designs and letters to form words of what I feel. The blade cuts into my skin like a knife into cheese. The blade sharp and clean. Blood drips down and spills on the floor leaving behind evidence of this catastrophic event. I breath heavy as I feel all that angry, deppresion and madness go in a series of beautiful wounds.

       I am finally able to breath and i relax in a pool of my own blood. I let it engulf me and I indulge in the beautie.

       I have blood that stains my hands. Now I don't not wash it off my hands I let the blood leave crimson streaks down my leg and on my hands. I use the blood like finger paint. I make swirls and circles. I spell words of darkness on my skin with the red rich blood.

       I allow myself to cut until the pain is unbearable. I moan in agony. But the pain I feel is not a bad pain, it's a good pain. This pain brings me release. A release that no one could understand. I come back to reality as the pain lingers on my skin. I look down at the master peace I made. It's beautiful. I sob into my hands thankful that my feeling are no longer as heavy as they use to be.

      The painting on my leg consist of letters and cuts over lapping to represent my pain. The cuts start from just under my underwear line to just above my knee.

      My leg and left arm looks like a horror film. Like a man with a chain saw came after me and sliced up my body leaving horrendous wounds that could scar even a hospital emgencey doctor.

      I know that what I do is crazy some would even say I need help for this Addiction. What I say let me continue, it brings me a joy that makes me happy.

     I live my family I would direction for them they are all I have. I have this yes but at the same time I don't. I will always love my family. But I have to want to stop for me, if I want to get better. Not for my family.

      I hope one day this doesn't kill me but at the same time it's what I hold dear to me.
  
     I cleans the wounds and clean up the mess I made leaving no evidence of what happened.

      Drip, drip, drip, drip the sound of blood dripping off of my razor blade is self serving for it in the fact that it brings me a release I can not explain. But today I went to far and the blood pours out of my wrists. I lay in the tub in the bathroom. The blood dyes the water red. My hand hangs slightly over the rim of the tub. I breath slowly letting to demons out of my body.

     Drip, drip, drip, drip the sound of blood dripping from my wrist to the floor is self severing for it in the fact that I will be dead soon. I let the blood pool below me and in the tub.

     Drip, drip, drip, drip the sound of blood.