Repressed Memories

4/26/17

**tw self harm/suicide**

(Prom 2016)
Remember
The boutonnière
Was pinned on my dress
And my fidgety fingers crept up
And pulled the pins out
I held them in my hands
And pulled petals off the rose
They fell down
Like the vomit off the balcony
My face pressed against the bars as I spit acid on the ground
And you sat there
Annoyed
Because I embarrassed you
By crying
And then puking
In front of the principle.
And you walked away to go dance with your girlfriend
Like nothing happened
Like you didn't just tell me you were going to break up with her
Because you still loved me.
So I sat there waiting for my mom to come get me
And scraped the pins along my wrists.

•••

It's almost midnight and I turned the light off over an hour ago.
I'm in too much pain
There are so many knots in my neck that I can't move it correctly and I can hardly breathe
I can't even drink water
All I can do is stare absently at the ceiling and wait for my eyes to close
I just wait until my body can't take it anymore
What if I don't wake up tomorrow

•••

I know I need help. I know I need to go back to therapy. I know I need to get evaluated again. I know I should go back on medication.
But I'm too scared. I don't want to take pills anymore.
Cause pills are a weapon for my self destruction.
Because I don't have anyone to hold on to them for me.
I would be able to OD. And I would succeed this time.
That scares me.
Because I would lay in my apartment until my coworkers got worried and sent someone to look for me.
And what would they find? Who would take care of my cat?
Oh god no no please no.
I need to sleep and I need to eat and I need to work on routine
But I have a routine.

Wake up
Smoke a cigarette or two
Use restroom
Get dressed
Put on make up
- lotion/primer/foundation/mascara
Get coffee
-double shot in the dark + vanilla and cream
Smoke another cigarette or two
Go to work
Smoke another cigarette
Bathroom breaks
Go home
Try to fall asleep
Force myself to eat something
Repeat.

It's the same thing every day.
But routine is boring. I can't take it.
I need something exciting. Something to look forward to.
Something to live for.

•••

I need to know what's wrong with me.
I need to know my diagnosis.
A current one.
Not some bullshit excuse
Anxiety and severe depression?
Fuck you.
All you did was drug me up
Zombify me
Make me numb and sleep all the time
I might be going insane
But at least I'm fucking aware.
The pills made it worse.
The voices didn't stop.
I just wasn't awake to hear them.
The hallucinations turned into nightmarish dreams.
That's not a solution.
I need to learn to cope.
Not avoid it.