raw emotion.

Lavender

My favorite scent is the kind you can taste in the back of your throat. Cinnamon, musk, lavender. I like lavender, it brings ease to me, kind of like Chinese food or fireworks do. Two completely different things I know. Average night for a teenager; Sleepovers, dinner with friends, maybe a party or two, but for me, lavender isn't the only thing I can taste in the back of my throat. People I know go out and drink Whiskey and down Vodka jello shots and move on to bars and acid tablets for the weekend just to drown out the ache in their mind, their heart. No, I don't drown myself in Whiskey and Vodka, but lavender isn't the only thing I can taste in the back of my throat. Coping mechanisms reach some, not all. For me, coping mechanisms don't really work. Instead, I use the In Vivo Effect, which is exposure therapy. Say I'm terrified of elevators. On day one I will slowly approach the elevator, stand there for a few minutes, then walk away. The next day i'll walk into the elevator but then jump right back out because I'd probably be shitting myself at this point, but the point of it all is to slowly expose yourself to the fear itself. My case is a little harder than that, since it so happens that it is myself I am afraid of. My thoughts at night. The things that go through my head are so out of it, like usually when you see your mother you're supposed to think "Gosh I love you." not "Woah, hey brain, no I don't want to kill my mom." Lavender isn't the only thing I can taste in the back of my throat. Because of said thoughts, I take medication. Medication is not for all, but it can sure as hell be a miracle worker at times. Though they help, you have to put in effort as well. I take more medication daily that I cannot count on one hand. Antidepressants are a crutch, and I am taking much time to heal. Lavender isn't the only thing I can taste in the back of my throat. When medication fails, my mind wanders. Creepily tilts the balance beam the wrong way and I am stuck with trying to find a coping mechanism. Quite a while ago, I found one, but it was something that nobody ever needed to ever do. Lavender isn't the only thing I can taste in the back of my throat. "It was just the one time." I told myself. Just one little mark. Maybe a few. Yeah, a few. A few years later I went from lines to writing the word "help" over and over to writing sentences on my thighs, because who knew carving poetry onto my skin would make it easier to look at? I would look at it real hard when I am finished for the night, take a deep breath in, and that is when I realized, lavender isn't the only thing I can taste in the back of my throat. "Just one more." I would say. "Maybe I can fit one here." Damn, I sure do hate myself, but with you on my mind, it made me forget what hating myself felt like. I think of us just standing there talking and the scent of your cologne would pass my nose and all I could think was that lavender isn't the only thing I can taste in the back of my throat. I still leave my house sometimes just to visit the places I almost committed suicide only to have those troubling thoughts flow through my head again and just think to myself that I was just being stupid that I'm okay it's going to pass like one hell of a kidney stone, but when I'm in the present thinking of death and well mapped out ideas to take myself away from here I do not think of what my future self will say because I do not believe that future self will exist, but I have proved myself wrong so far. Lavender isn't the only thing I can taste in the back of my throat. It is nobody but myself that I have to live for and I don't understand why that's so fucking hard to come to terms with I hate myself I hate myself breathing is not a right but a privilege and getting up to walk is a constant chore. When someone loves another they claim they would die for them but holy shit I would live. I would exist and actually be a functional member of this foul society I want things to end I want to end so bad but there are promises that I have not yet spoken to people I have not yet met. What even the fuck is a smile? Appreciation? Appreciation is not a fucking smile appreciation is the gentle sweep of the hair from your face appreciation is how brighter it is outside to you appreciation is not opening that car door for them to get in but for them to trust you with their entire fucking life during that car ride god fucking Damnit.

 I Am Alive.

S.L.C. 2016.