Aftermath

I knew if I had continued what I was doing, I would have woken up one day and lose everything – every bit of conscience in my mind, every last thread of grasp on reality, every thought that actually cared…

So I stopped eventually.

Maybe one day I will stop this entirely, but for now, I’m still battling my uncontrollable urge to go back to my self-mutilation cycle. It’s been six months since I last burned myself with a pair of hot, just-burned scissors. I don’t think I have ever been so persistent on wanting something so bad.

I don’t like the pain, not really. I like the control I have over the pain. It gives me an empty space in this complicated world – a place to escape. Yet, about a year ago the self-injury cycle had led me into a state that almost stopped me from functioning at all.

During those days, I would stare at people, wondering what I was doing at the time. I couldn’t concentrate even one little bit. I couldn’t think. The simple biological function of breathing was often forgotten – until I started feeling dizzy and had to remind myself to start breathing again.

I always covered up everything so well. Lied so smoothly – as if it was in my nature. I did let loose my grip on control once, and that scared my friends so badly that she had since then believed profoundly that something was definitely wrong with me. At the time I had went shopping with her right after doing some major damaging to my right leg. I was not careful – and that resulted the entire afternoon walking around with a pair of blood soaked pants. I don’t know if my friends had believed in my excuses, but that time I almost fainted right on the streets.

After the incident I finally realized that this wouldn’t work. I can’t do this or I’ll kill myself one day. I started forcing myself to stop. The first few months were hell. I had nightmares every night – dreaming of me killing someone, someone killing me, or I watch with a sneer as someone kills someone else.

Anyways, it’s a lot better now – I am now able to think of other ways to control myself. Yet I am pretty scared right now – because the urge to pick up a knife never seems to end.

I’m scared.

But I will end this.

I have to.

From Breathing.

Keep me breathing...
My day, my night,
My memories...