Red Butterflies

A Brief Outline

 Is this really living? I s being in a world where you have to hide being who you are, or being free? You have freedom of speech or of voting, but not to show who you actually are. You are unable to be yourself and you’re forced to try and fit into the social norm. I know how the world works and it doesn’t matter what is said, nor what is done the world will still spin. The world will still go round. Society and the world don’t care if they lose a beautiful intelligent lady or a kind hearted incredible man. They don’t care if they lose one, or if they lose many, and long as THEY are still winning. But here is the thing, It doesn’t matter who you are or what you lose, whether or not you have lost someone you love, or someone that actually means something to you, or even if its someone you give a damn about it doesn’t matter someone else has. Your stupidity has inflicted pain on someone else and that someone else you may not even know existed, but you don’t care, because it’s not you who is being torn apart. We swallow pills still wanting to be beautiful at the morgue. We flirt with death each time with etch a new tally mark into our skins. I know how to split my wrists to reveal a battlefield, you’re not alone. We drink; we are drunk on the idea that love and only love can fully heal the brokenness we feel inside. You are worth more than empty beer bottles displayed like drunken artefacts. But when do we draw the line? When the knife hits the skin? Isn’t it the same as purging, because we’re so obsessed with death? We are calling out for help, yet nobody can hear our silent whimpers. No one raises an eyebrow. Everyone has their own problems, some are just better at hiding them from the world. We are all so oblivious to it all. We are so caught up in our own worlds not to notice anyone else. The young girl in your class who is always answering questions and smiling enthusiastically, did you ever think that last night she was prepared to take one last breath? Or the boy who has the position of the class clown telling jokes that make everyone laugh goes home every night and starts punching walls and cries himself to sleep? Suicide only stings the victim for a moment, but is left like an open wound forever to everyone who cared. So many lies are told. 

“It gets better” When? 

“I’m here for you” Bullshit, where are you? 

“It’ll be okay” Can you promise that? No you can’t.

 “Its okay” No it actually is not. 

I would like to know why people feel the need to inflict pain on others. This actually happened to a friend; She wore a scarf to school, as she walked into the gates someone told her to neck herself with it. Why?! And the only thing you can think to do is grab something and slice your skin, and soon it becomes an addictive pain that you can’t let go of. The smallest thing has your reaching and searching for a blade or whatever the hell you decide to use, just a bad day or dropping a pen. Before you know it you are fitting into the category of mental health, just like everyone else you started off innocent but were driven to sink lower and lower into a sea of depression. It’s a condition of general emotional dejection and withdrawal; sadness greater and more prolonged than that warranted by any objective reason. A place where there is a one lone candle, and it doesn’t matter how many times this candle is lit, the darkness sweeps over blowing it out and you are left alone, not being able to see the way out. It’s the feeling of being trapped, trapped in a world where the only way to control the pain you feel inside is to create the pain and embark in into yourself. Is that really living? I wonder what it’s like to come back from that because sometimes I feel forest fires erupting from my wrists and the smoke signals sent out are the most beautiful things I have ever seen. 

If you had the chance to kill yourself in such a place where you felt no pain and no blood was involved and your family and friends wouldn’t get hurt by what you did and wouldn’t have to grieve, would you take it? I am honestly not sure on what I would choose. But to be able to leave this world without causing anyone pain seems like a good way to go. I don’t want to be to one to cause anyone hurt, but honestly I don’t think anyone is scared of losing me. Everyone comes and goes and no one stays as soon as they realise something serious is wrong. I have developed trust issues. Currently I have anxiety and insomnia and have had bulimia. My self-harm has gotten beyond the point where I can stop. I should not have a drawer in my room full of scalpels, scissors, razors, sharpener blades or broken glass for the many bottles of alcohol I have smashed.