Thinking

I'm sitting behind my computer in my darkly lit room trying to gather the courage to face tomorrow.
I'm trying not to think about school starting on Tuesday.
Trying not to let the looming date for graduation bother me.
Trying to focus on things that are happening now rather than my ever evident lack of planning.
My future.
I never wanted one so how am I supposed to start working for it?
One day I just woke up with the knowledge that I'd have to work for things because I was expected to want them.
Expected to want to go to college.
Expected to want to get a job and possibly have a family down the line.
Expected to eat and sleep and do my work.
Expected to stop cutting and starving and hating myself.
Expected to get up brush off my past and insecurities and just keep going.
The problem is I can't.
And the closer I get to knowing that everything is moving on and leaving me in the dust the closer I am to walking backwards over that edge.
Backwards into the land of insanity and pills and gaping wounds that never seem to heal.
Backwards to the hospital or a grave if I succeed.
And it's daunting.
Knowing that other people are dealing with life and their issues so much better than I am.
Knowing that there are people who; despite holding a deep hatred for themselves, they still accomplish things.
I look at them in awe and jealousy wondering how.
How after all that time and energy put into their deep routed hate do they still have the ability to get up in the morning?
How are they able to keep walking when my knees buckled long ago under the pressure?
How are they able to do what I am not?
With each passing day it gets worse.
The suicidal thoughts were under control for a while.
Now they have tipped and are spinning wildly about while I try and catch my bearings.
A hold on something other than the gruesome fantasies.
To grab onto a thought that doesn't involve taking my double edged razor blade to my face; doing a little 'remodeling'.
How can I sit in class and look people in the eye and tell them that I am fine when I so clearly am not?
How can I face these people?
How can I keep moving when the weight on my legs has increased to the point of breakage?
There is bile on my toes.
I have small rips in the back of my throat.
My knuckles are sore.
My chest aches and I want nothing more than to go to sleep and never wake up.
Maybe I'll have peaceful dreams.

I get really scared

When someone I love hurts I don't know what to do.
I freeze up.
I choke on my words and they taste like bile in my mouth.
How am I supposed to help you?
What can I do to make you see what I see in you?
Is this how it feels?
The panicky feeling of helplessness that creeps into your chest as you watch them all drown; is this what it feels like to love someone?
When you are standing on the sidelines of someone else's story banging on the glass that separates you from them, how are you supposed to feel?
How are you supposed to reach out to them?
If you are sinking down; being eaten alive by quicksand, how are you to pull someone else out of their depths?
How do you make someone feel as if they are everything and the only thing that matters in your world when they would rather die than see who they are?
I feel as though these questions have occurred to those around me and I am not alone in my dread.
I understand now what it feels like.
Standing in front of someone with a medical licence the words suicide attempt tumbling out of their mouths.
You stare at their lips and suddenly forget how to breathe as the heart monitor beeps away in the room behind you.
The drip of the IV in your loved ones arm is haunting.
But its worse.
So much worse.
When you are sitting on the other side of a computer monitor and you read the words: Everything is wrong.
When you see someone you adore slipping into a place you know all too well and you are desperately trying to save them but you are unable to;
The feeling can best be described as terrifying.
They have fallen off of a very high cliff and you are keeping them up by the tips of your fingers.
They keep telling you to let go but you won't.
Not until your shoulder dislocates and cuts off the blood flow to your hand.
You are crying and begging them to just let you save them and they just smile up at you with a sad look in their eyes.
As if your feeble attempts to save their life is only reminding them of why they stepped off the edge in the first place.
You would die for them a million times over to see them happy but nothing you do is making them want to keep fighting.
There are people and events in their life that act as long bony hands.
Those hands rise out from the screaming sea below and grab a hold of your precious person.
The pain in their life pull against you and no matter how hard you fight to keep them with you, you know you are fighting a losing battle.
How is it so possible to love someone so much?
This love fills you up and breaks you open and leaves you bleeding on the bathroom floor.
You are crying and screaming and no one will come to save you because you cannot save them.
And you are both dying.
Slowly you are rotting away in your meat carcasses and one day someone will find you nothing but a pile of putrefied flesh.
It hurts.
When a piece of you; a person who holds your world in their hand, is withering away right in front of your eyes and you are powerless there are no words.
Nothing will make this better.
You are going to watch them wilt until you have shed your very last petal.