Monday, January 26, 2015

the letter.

Please don't freak out as you read this post. I wrote the following letter for myself at one of the darkest points of my depression. It's a VERY candid, non-edited written explanation of my thought process in the midst of shear agony. I wrote this on the day I was going to give up. The most painful day for me to date. I remember very little about that day. I do remember a few things. I remember the screams that came from my mouth saying "just let me go" as I sat in a cold basement. I remember sitting in the waiting room in the ER, clutching my teddy bear with tears streaming. It all felt like a dream, or a nightmare rather, like I was watching this unfold from a distance. I am in a very different place today than I was that day, and relieved to say that at the moment things are going well. I never want to go back to how I felt that day. Never. But if I had to, I would walk through hell with a smile. Well, here goes: Trigger Warning (this means stop reading if the following is upsetting in any way).

Unexplainible pain.  Gives up.  Think, no I can't anymore.  1 step forward… oh yes.  Two steps back.  Becoming two-million.  This is real, but why isn't it?  Green bracelet once again.  Screaming my mind towards you who don't LISTEN.  Plan a trip.  Back to hell.  No sleep for the… weary?  Done?  Agonized?  Give me a second, no the rest of my life.  Ask about my scars.  Feel the drip…drip…drip.  The poke and the bruise.  Couches in pain.  Agony, no more pain.  Just numb.  A year of this.  Maybe more, can't tell anymore.  THE SAME QUESTIONS by the white coats.  Stone walled faces sending me away from comfort.  Me: help.  Them: How are you feeling today?  Am I, you know… me?:  Undescribable, the pain you can only see through tears, and see through the marks of the blade.  The pain only ever somewhat understood when the body is all that is left cold.  Morbid?  Yes.  The true feeling?  Yes.  Even now you will not understand.  You will ask: What does this mean?  Oh if you only knew how much it meant.  See thats just it.  Until you are sucked in too, you will never know the real truth.  Blue signs seen through the windshield, leading you to hours of yet pointless stares and questions by people in white coats that say they only want to help.  How can they?  The only thing that keeps me here in pain, is you.  Let me go.  Let me say goodbye one last time.  Slip into whatever is next.  Pain being cured by a box of rocks.  Speak up for us.  Carry our weary bodies that can't even feel the pain anymore.  Lost souls.  We are not afraid of dying, we are afraid of feeling dead and still being another beating heart.  Why am I ever even trying to show you these mere words.  You still will never get it.  I try to tell you… I am begging with every last ounce for you to understand.  Them:  food is fuel  Me: No food keeps us alive, but why would I want to be alive if this is my life?!  Body is going limp.  I am slipping.  Is it the light I see, or bright darkness?  Slipping…slipping….slip…  I am already gone but still here.  The days of pain and sadness are long over.  This has become more.  Eating alive from the inside and the outside and everywhere all of the time.  Our eyes are long gone.  DONT YOU GET IT YET?!  I couldn't pull through.  People don't know you anymore.  You have become the one that nobody understands, and everyone fears.  I am so sorry…. don't call the police, what will they do?  They will carry me into forever.  World, they say you are beautiful.  How can they see it and not I?  Giving up…dying for real this time into a death from which you can never return… The world will never know… running on low..empty..nothing..everything.. finally reaching the final checkpoint.. she's gone?  Yes, she.. is gone.

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