You're once again lost in your head, weighed down by these intrusive thoughts that never seem to go away. You've tried before and the other nights ended peacefully. But, tonight decided to be different. This night comes with its own shade of vulnerability. The one that makes you think of cuddling up to a pillow or a Teddy bear while buried under heavily quilted duvets, awaiting the trance sleep puts you in, taking you out of your misery. Your thoughts are the only things you have to yourself in the darkness, they keep you company while throwing you across different worlds. You feel so alone and wrap your hands around your middle which reminds you of the one wish you've had ever since you were a kid– the wish never to feel lonely. The wish for warmer hands to hold onto you on the nights when the wind blows colder from the west. For the hands around you not to leave you alone.
You think of the days when you never needed a pill to fall asleep, days when all you needed was to lay your head on the pillow and sleep would embrace you in its warmth and you'd drift off for hours. But now, you're stuck with either spending hours chasing sleep while being attacked from the insides by your thoughts or you have to pop a pill before the slightest bit of drowsiness hits you like a toy train. And even then, your mind refuses to quiet down enough to let you rest. And you're expected to get up the next day, wash, rinse and repeat– an exhausting cycle. You have given up on anything else as a reprieve from this change, you have no other choice than to go along with the flow.
What a sorry existence.
Your vulnerability at these moments make you seem less strong than you actually are and it scares you so much that you tighten your arms around the teddy's neck, wishing to transfer some of the weight on your heart to the Teddy. You try as hard as possible to keep your tears back in their ducts, you will them not to come out of their thinly-veiled spots and choke back the sobs threatening to spill from your throat. The fact that your life sucks is enough of a pain factor and try as you might, your thoughts refuse to leave the pit of despair they have dug. The voices reminding you of your uselessness keep multiplying and you have the urge to scream and shout, break anything within reach, ruin anyone who steps in your path, destroy the peace of the night, but, you still have to pretend you're sane for the sake of sanity itself.
The darkness is your cover and your thoughts are your companions. But, what to do when your companions are intent on driving you crazy?🥺😪
Peace comes in form of a little nick, a brief sting. You wrap your hands around the blade hidden within the bedframe and calmly raise it to your wrist. You trace it over the healing scars, the coldness of the blade inviting goosebumps all over your skin and you shudder in anticipation. You trace your unmarked skin, teasing yourself with little pricks and close shaves. It's a battle between deciding to claim unmarked skin or draw on already conquered surfaces. You blindly decide and draw the blade across a patch of skin. The rush of pain unlocks something in your chest and relief flows into you the same way blood rushes out of the cut.You can finally breathe as the silence you sought after is within your reach.
You decide to find a rag to mop up the steadily flowing river and you find yourself lightheaded. You chuckle a bit at the strain and make your way to the adjoining bathroom where you stand at the sink and stare at the pale face looking at you from the mirror. You raise a hand to push your hair from your face and you find yourself falling.
Fuck.
Not today again.
Signed:
A🖤💜