The black dog walks ever by my side. It is omnipresent. The drugs do not work. I am losing hope.
Every day my experiences and feelings are dismissed.
Everyday the will to live is drawn from me with gasping breath.
How much do I owe my progenitors? Does the debt diminish if I detail the abuses? Does kicking, hitting and belittling decrease my debt, even just a little bit?
I want to cut so badly.
I want to scream and flay the world, that my pain is real. I bleed inside. But that is another person. A person who was not beaten into submission.
I am thirty years old and I still cringe at her tone.
My mother is an abuser.
My father never stopped her.
I have a new doctor. He’s proactive and says I can do better than ok. He’s changed my meds from 150mg of zoloft to 5mg of lexapro. Now for the new side effects. What fun!
I thought things would be better when I moved back. They are not.
I’m living in the country by myself which is great but everytime I come up to the city I am insomniac once more.
I feel like my skin is alien. I am not me. The drugs are killing my mind. My words are gone. My breath is gone. My agility and balance are gone. I haven’t showered in over a week. My hands tremble and my head aches.
I am going back to conselling soon. I hope that this one will be better than the last one cos I can’t put up with another crappy shrink.
Am I going to be depressed for ever? Is that a life?
I hurt myself today
Trigger warning: cutting and blood
I just cut myself.
It’s tiny and barely bleeds.
It’s the first time.
I feel totally out of control.
I want to tear the flesh from my bones.
See what a pretty colour
Mottled red and purple and brown
My body’s love song.
I die inside.
When I hurt I feel alive.
I know pain sharp as a dagger caressing my neck.
What patterns the knife makes.
A true work of art
So unlike groping for meaning through these silly words.
I bleed, the desert refreshed
The desert of my mind
The sand of thoughts
Bones crumble to dust.
No blood flows.
I drop the knife and know insanity
My eyes do not see, my images are blurred
The tears gather in my eyes but are never shed.
The bright red blood surges, longing to stain snow white skin.
I sway, lost in the joy of hurting myself.
I want my bed.
I want my home.
I want some peace.
Nobody sees my tears.
I am alone.