This shouldn’t be happening, not now at least. I never get depressed around Halloween; it’s my favorite holiday (hell the only holiday I celebrate). I can feel those feelings creeping up on me and crawling into my head, scratching and tearing apart my mind. Soon the thoughts will crawl inside of my skin making me itch to fall back into bad habits and the thought of it makes me sick. And I’m left with those questions churning in my head again that will have a voice answering in a sardonic whisper.
When did it start?
When you realized he wasn’t there anymore and you’re left alone once again.
Why won’t it stop?
Because you can’t fight it alone. You’re too weak to fight it.
Who can I talk to?
No one. They don’t care and you know it. You know they secretly complain about how pathetic you are. They’d be happy if you left.
How can I make it go away?
Kill yourself for real this time. Or you can pussy out once more and make a few more cuts on your scarred up arms and it’ll go away for a while.
I need to escape, but where?
No where! You’re an idiot for thinking that someone will care and take you in.
I’ll blast my music and close my eyes. In a weak voice I’ll try to convince myself that everything is okay. Life is good. I’ll be happy again. It’s only your thoughts. I can fight through it and I’m not alone. I have friends that love me and would miss me very much if something happened to me.
And then the voice will come back with a laugh so sinister that it sends chills down my spine before speaking with a darker tone.
Everything’s not okay you dumbass! You’re going to be evicted soon and you have no place to go. You spent your check on a car that isn’t yours, food that you barely got to eat, the cell phone bill so you can make sure you can still talk to an ex-fiancé that sees you as someone boring and a burden, and a FEW things for you. Your mother hints to you everyday that when you and your family are out on the streets it’s going to be your fault for not giving her the check; and you know she’s right. Your boyfriend, the one you kept defending and saying you loved with everything you are, cheated on you right under your nose and now he’s gone. You keep thinking about your ex who had sex with someone else while you were on the phone. You’re not even a man and yet you identify yourself as one. You’re pathetic. It’s no wonder you could never hold onto anyone you actually cared about. Your mother and father are right; you’re nothing but a useless whore. You dress yourself up and pretend everything is fine because you know that NO ONE cares. And you cry yourself to sleep because you know it’s all true. Why are you even alive anymore? Just do everyone a fucking favor and kill yourself.
I’ll break down and cry once more. I won’t be able to help it this time. The voice knows all my insecurities and weaknesses and it plays on that. I want to scream and cry and claw at my arms until I bleed, but then I remember the promise I made to her. I can’t scar up my arms anymore so I have to find another outlet… but what? I promised her I wouldn’t drink anymore. I promised her I wouldn’t smoke or smoke pot; though I already broke that promise over spring break last year. But even without those promises, I wouldn’t turn to that stuff ever again. I hated being high and not in control. I could live without alcohol. The cigarettes made me more tense and uptight. They never worked. What did calm me down?
Cutting.
But I won’t go down that road again. I can’t do that to my “dad” and her again. If I disappoint them… I don’t think I can ever be okay with who I am anymore. Besides a select friends I’ve had since I was younger, they’re the people I can’t let hate me either. I can’t lose them, so I’ll lose myself first. I’ll drown myself in music and go mad in my room. I’ll cut those last threads of sanity before I let them hate me.
And to think, this all started with this thought:
Both my parents love me when I’m not living with them… maybe there’s something wrong with me… maybe I’m not really meant to be loved.
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