“Why me?” I quietly whisper to myself as the tears silently stream down my face like so many nights before. There is music in the background, a sad song, always a sad song. I’ve felt like this so many other times before; alone, worthless, depressed...but really, who cares anyway? A small smirk appears on my face as my throat conjures up a little giggle.
“They told me it would be great, I’d be wonderful. I would always be happy!” Another small giggle finds its way out of my mouth. But then the tears come again, harder now. A little noise escapes from my throat, a squeak, just my body telling me I want, and desperately need to scream.
“Why didn’t they just tell me it would be like this? It would have been easier that way. Didn’t they feel this kind of pain? No.. No one knows what it’s like.. Life sucks. What did I do to deserve this, anyway? My mind drifts off into a sleepy state: the kind of haze that has been possessing my body for quite awhile now. The feelings coming, then going, and coming again, always hitting hard.
My hand reaches up, a natural instinct for me to want to open my window. My room is warm, almost too warm. The window creaks open as I put my strength into opening the old thing and a cool breeze of wind licks the areas of my skin not covered. I shiver, pulling my thick green comforter all the way to my neck, wiping away the last few remaining tears.
I lay down and curl into the fetal position. I brush a few stray hairs out of my face with one hand, and with the other I grab my favorite stuffed animal, a fuzzy gray hippo by the name of Georgia. I tuck her underneath my neck and chin, using her as a pillow. More thoughts lazily drift in and out of my mind causing tears to flow again as the bad one in my head tells me to give up, that no one would care if I did give up. But I know there’s someone who does care about me; I know he does. I know that Billy loves me with every ounce of his being.
“I will NOT let the bad one make me think differently! It’s so hard.. but I know I’m stronger than this. Please...for his sake let me be stronger than this.”
Almost on cue, my phone buzzes. It’s him. Billy. The one who cares. The one that pushes away the bad one in my head, the one that gives me the strength to fight. But that voice...it decides to intrude itself into my happy thoughts. It tells me he doesn’t actually love me, he just says that because he feels bad for me...but I know better than that, I know that’s not true. As I check my phone, the light burns my eyes for a couple seconds, but they adjust quickly.
“Hey baby, how are you?” (See, he does care!)
“Hey babe.... I’m okay I guess...but I just can’t stop crying...”
“Why? What’s wrong??”
“I don’t know... I just...don’t feel good again...”
“I’m here for you if you want or need to talk boo...you know that. I love you so much baby please remember that... Just remember not to do anything stupid...and you know what I’m talking about...for me please, babe?”
“I’m trying my hardest for you baby... really I am. But I’m really tired... I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight, I love you!”
“I love you too baby, goodnight.”
I turn my phone off and set it on my dresser. I turn my music up a little louder. It’s one of my favorites. The lyrics have always spoken to me, I always seem to relate...
These wounds won’t seem to heal, this pain is just too real.
There’s just too much that time cannot erase.
These wounds.... So much deeper than just cuts. Hurt, pain, loneliness, self-pity... That’s what caused the cuts. There are inner wounds that no one can see, but I always feel, I’m always aching inside, wanting people to know the pain I feel, but too scared to tell; its always there...won’t seem to heal, how true is that? This pain is just too real. Time can’t make this go away... These wounds are just too deep...
I did something a while back, well, started something. I wanted to feel the wretched pain I felt on the inside, but for real, on the outside. I did something that no human being should ever feel like they have to resort to. Self-harm. (P.S. don’t start... Because believe me, once you start, its hard to stop.) Nobody knew. I never wanted anybody to ever know...
Then Billy found out. Well, actually I told him; I desperately needed to get something off of my conscience. He has helped me, and I’ve started doing it less and less; I have even almost completely stopped doing it. He is my rock. The one person I can always depend on. But tonight, I’m not as strong, I want to do it so bad.
I once again reach for Georgia, and as I play with her smooth dense fur, I pull her head up, revealing a small slit in her neck. I gently reach in and pluck out a small golden envelope I made out of duct tape, just the size of a razor blade. I open it, revealing 2 sharp, shiny blades. I hold them up into the light of the lamp next to my bed. The light reflects off them in a horribly beautiful way. I have always loved how that looks. Most people would say “oh no, thats horrible,” or “why would you like that?!” but I don’t care. It’s a strange beauty; something only a few find beauty in.
Figures, the bad one comes into my mind again. Its nags me, tells me to do it. Tells me it’s the only thing that could ever possibly make me feel better in the slightest way. Tells me that deep down inside I know that I like it...but I dont want to! I want to stop! I start to cry again, and I can’t control myself. The tears just keep coming and I feel like nothing will ever get better in my life. The bad one keeps telling me to do it, it won’t stop! Do it, you know you want to, come on, just DO IT! I give in..... The tears are too much.
I take the razor in my hand and brush it against the soft, smooth, and scarred skin of my wrist. A shiver goes down my spine. It’s the one I get everytime I do this. It’s a kind of rush, almost like an adrenaline rush, but not as extreme. I like this feeling, it’s soothing to me; it calms my mind and my body. I start to press into my skin with the razor, another rush goes down my spine but this time it is much stronger. Right before the razor breaks my skin to let my sweet crimson blood flow, another sob is released from my body and I pull the razor away.
“Why do I do this to myself? I know that people care about me and would be horrified if they found out what I do to myself...yet I still do it. Why is that?” As these thoughts are going through my head, with shaking hands I put the razors back into their little golden envelope and slide them back into their home in the slit of Georgia’s neck.
That was the moment that I thought to myself that I don't need to do this anymore. The bad one in my head is wrong. I am so much better than what it tells me. I have people in my life that really do care about me and would want me to stop what I’m doing to myself more than anything. I tell myself I won't let the bad one in my head make me feel the way I do. I won't cut anymore, because I know I am better than this.
Since this night, I have thrown away the dreadfully beautiful razors that have caused me so much pain. I have work on building up my self confidence, and I have amazing friends and family who support me and help me build it up. I continue to fight the bad one in my head, and as time has gone by the voice has slowly began to drift away and almost disappear completely. Some nights it comes back and I feel horrible, but I haven’t resorted to the horrible methods I have in the past. I am a much happier person now, and I feel that others can tell too. I have no plans to ever go back to that and I continue to surround myself with people that make me happy.
