Dazing Into Storms

As I sit alone in the dark, I contemplate all my life’s endeavors. I feel guilty but I’ve no motivation. How could I fix all of these failures? I know that my friends and family want me to get better but I can’t bring myself to do so. Instead I just sit and accept who I am. I’m a sad human being who will do absolutely nothing with their life. It hurts, but I know it to be true.

I continue to sit alone in the dark, my eyes closed and nothing awake but my mind. I feel a tear drop stream down my cheek as I think about many horrible things. However, I’m too far into my mind to care. Instead of wiping my tears and moving on, I delve deeper into my darkest thoughts. As the warm tears stream more and more down my cheeks, I feel myself slipping away. I begin to feel impulsive, my body craving the feeling of bleeding.

The darkness of the room consumes my brain. The thoughts become darker as the impulsivity grows. If I began to bleed, I would be distracted. The bleeding would take the pain off of my heart and onto my body. Distractions are what my racing thoughts desire and all I can think of is red.

Dark, bleeding red. My heart aches as I sink and I swim in these thoughts. Without thinking, I stand and I walk to my bag. The red in my head and the blade in my hand. I know they’re disappointed, but I can’t put it down.

The blade to my skin, the dark consuming my eyes. I can’t see myself but I know where I stand. I strike it strongly and I feel the pain. A tingling feeling, and liquid flowing downward. Another strike, more relief. I feel my thoughts getting clearer as I delve into the pain.

The darkness is clearer, I see through it now. I’ve grown used to sitting here and I look to my bag. I know what I’ve grabbed, I know what I’ve done. There is no happy ending as I’ve relapsed again. I hear a purring by my bedside, and look to see Clarabelle. Her big eyes were looking up at me with tears building up inside. Even my cat knew what I had done, and even though I had disappointed her too, she was the only one to comfort me.

Not so alone in the dark, I look back to my bleeding arm. The soft purring in my ear encouraged me to get up and wipe off the mess I had created on my body. As I stood up, my cat jumped onto my bed as if waiting for me to come back. She wanted me to care for myself, then give her affection. I knew she wanted attention more for my sake than her own, but I also felt the need to apologize. I returned to her once I finished cleaning and bandaging my arms.

“I know I’m not alone in the dark,” I whispered as I lay down and cuddled next to Clarabelle. “I’m so sorry.”