Wednesday, 23 May 2012
"Help, I have done it again.
I have been here many times before
hurt myself again, today.
and the worst part is there's no one else to blame...
Ouch, I have lost myself again.
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
yeah, i think that i might break
lost myself again, and i feel unsafe..."
-"Breathe Me" - Sia
I want to say it doesn't matter. I want to say that I'm perfectly fine - and it's true, I lie every day and act like I am - because I want to make everyone else happy. When people get angry at me, and then time goes by and it's all forgotten, the wheels in my head turn and I think about what I'd say...
What ever happened to how I feel? When did it not being to matter how all of this affects me? When did I start to mean nothing?
I've always put others ahead of me. I bite my tongue just so I don't affect them like they do me. I lock myself up in my room and cry my heart out, sheltered from anyone else, just so they don't have to go out of their way to ask why I'm so upset and begin to worry about me.
A few days ago I almost cut. I wanted to so badly. It felt as if I was going insane; I could feel my brain slowly shattering. So I turned on "Breathe Me" by Sia, talked to a good friend, and somehow managed to not go looking for the razor that would create new scars on my body. Even talking about it, I want to break down and cut. But I can't. Its only been a few days, and I'm still fighting inside to keep myself from doing anything.
A regular thought for me is: Should I cut some more? Should I go find some pills? What happens if I go see a therapist? I bet you don't have those thoughts, I bet the person closest to you doesn't think that every day they wake up. But I do. And I'm alone in the fight.
I suppose one of the things that bothers me is when people try - and fail miserably - to be that shoulder to lean on, and say they know how you feel. But in reality...they don't, and that's what makes things so difficult. I hate knowing that my emotions are so unstable, and no one really knows how to handle me when I'm off my rocker. Maybe that's what stops me from talking to people about my problem. If I could find someone that knows how to deal with it, maybe I'd be happier, maybe I wouldn't be so crazy then...