I'm drunk enough to let you all in on a little bit more of me. Painbearer poutily requested an update, and who can refuse a pb pout? I was reading my old journals taoday, and this entry stuck out. I think I'm here again, now. I was 19. Unedited.
"Every day I go through the motions. I work, run errands, clean. And all day I dream of screaming. Of crying and yelling. I have all this anger. Someone cuts me off- I have visions of slamming on the brakes, leaping from my car and bashing in their tinted windows until my wrists bleed. A guy catcalls as he walks by - I see myself cussing him out as a crowd of people gather round. Yelling and spitting and eventually socking him in the nose. I've never been a violent person.
I imagine Shira asking me how I am tomorrow night at dinner. I see my eyes filling with tears, trying to stop them from coming, and finally letting it all come out. In her pretty kitchen. Screaming and crying, howling and smashing dishes until Mark has to give me a shot to calm me down. I'm so scared that will happen. I don't know how much longer I can control it. So scared she will see what I truly am. And also wishing for it. Hoping I will have the strength to do it so that finally someone will know the depth of my pain. Finally understand that I am not ok. I am not just a teenager with issues. I am not just confused or depressed. I am a tea kettle on a bon fire - ready to boil over. And when I do I won't be able to stop.
I am in the bath tub. I see my razor. I want to drag it accross my flesh. I want to feel the burn as the numbness spreads over my entire body. Oh god. I can feel it in my tummy. The pull of the sweet pain. And what stops me? The idea of letting them down. Of telling Evans and Shira and Dad - Oops! I did it again. I relapsed. I did it and I fucking loved it. I did it and it's good, don't you see? It's not bad, it's healing. The ancient Europeans used leaches and me, I use my Ladt Bic. It's my own revitalization movement. Just like the old days I bleed the bad out and it feels good. Too good. Of fuck it feels great it can't be bad. I did it and I'll never stop.
But I didn't."
So thats it, kids. A fucked up teenegaged Maurauder. Take from it what you will, but it's me...
"Every day I go through the motions. I work, run errands, clean. And all day I dream of screaming. Of crying and yelling. I have all this anger. Someone cuts me off- I have visions of slamming on the brakes, leaping from my car and bashing in their tinted windows until my wrists bleed. A guy catcalls as he walks by - I see myself cussing him out as a crowd of people gather round. Yelling and spitting and eventually socking him in the nose. I've never been a violent person.
I imagine Shira asking me how I am tomorrow night at dinner. I see my eyes filling with tears, trying to stop them from coming, and finally letting it all come out. In her pretty kitchen. Screaming and crying, howling and smashing dishes until Mark has to give me a shot to calm me down. I'm so scared that will happen. I don't know how much longer I can control it. So scared she will see what I truly am. And also wishing for it. Hoping I will have the strength to do it so that finally someone will know the depth of my pain. Finally understand that I am not ok. I am not just a teenager with issues. I am not just confused or depressed. I am a tea kettle on a bon fire - ready to boil over. And when I do I won't be able to stop.
I am in the bath tub. I see my razor. I want to drag it accross my flesh. I want to feel the burn as the numbness spreads over my entire body. Oh god. I can feel it in my tummy. The pull of the sweet pain. And what stops me? The idea of letting them down. Of telling Evans and Shira and Dad - Oops! I did it again. I relapsed. I did it and I fucking loved it. I did it and it's good, don't you see? It's not bad, it's healing. The ancient Europeans used leaches and me, I use my Ladt Bic. It's my own revitalization movement. Just like the old days I bleed the bad out and it feels good. Too good. Of fuck it feels great it can't be bad. I did it and I'll never stop.
But I didn't."
So thats it, kids. A fucked up teenegaged Maurauder. Take from it what you will, but it's me...
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PS- I was a very, very angry teenager... I can totally relate. *hug*