This journal entry may seems a bit strange but its my first and... nvm nobody will read it.
Last night I encountered the side of me that does not sleep. He stays in the corners of my soul until I am to weak to keep him there, When I am down and weak he makes his move. The longer I go with out being visited by him the more vicious his attack. I can hear his foot steps as he comes closer. The pattern of his walk makes me envious. It is filled with so much confidence such style. He approaches me with a smile that I recognize instantly, it is my own. He brushes his left shoulder off and crouches down to my level. I want to fight him but he is me and unfortunatly he is better then me in every way. With one hand on my shoulder he tells me that I've been slipping as of late. He thanks me for the oppertunity and then takes control.
Which brings me to the acctual journal. Last night at around 7:00 he came knocking. By 12:00 I was a complete mess. I quit smoking tabaco about 2 months ago and by 12:30 I found my self with a half empty pack. I drove like it wasn't even my life on the line. Going down bruster at 50, blowing stops I honeslty can't believe I was not arrested now, but at the time it never crossed my mind. I also cut my self for the first time. I have never had any history with or desire to mutilate my flesh but now I have what resembles a full tally mark carved into my arm. Once my mental strength recovered enough to supress my darker side I felt as if I had been raped by my self. What truely makes me the most ashamed is that I enjoyed it. Each cut felt like an opening for my pain to escape through. Each cig felt like the first, each stop sign I ran made me feel that much more alive.
Now I sit here feeling like shit again. My cuts are not easy to hide, and my mother will notice them eventually. Her life has been no easier then mine for the past few years and this is just going to be a whole new load of of shit added to her already full cart.
To some this may seem like a pitiful cry for help, but there is nothing anybody can do to help anyway. I find however that exposing it makes it feel lighter.
Last night I encountered the side of me that does not sleep. He stays in the corners of my soul until I am to weak to keep him there, When I am down and weak he makes his move. The longer I go with out being visited by him the more vicious his attack. I can hear his foot steps as he comes closer. The pattern of his walk makes me envious. It is filled with so much confidence such style. He approaches me with a smile that I recognize instantly, it is my own. He brushes his left shoulder off and crouches down to my level. I want to fight him but he is me and unfortunatly he is better then me in every way. With one hand on my shoulder he tells me that I've been slipping as of late. He thanks me for the oppertunity and then takes control.
Which brings me to the acctual journal. Last night at around 7:00 he came knocking. By 12:00 I was a complete mess. I quit smoking tabaco about 2 months ago and by 12:30 I found my self with a half empty pack. I drove like it wasn't even my life on the line. Going down bruster at 50, blowing stops I honeslty can't believe I was not arrested now, but at the time it never crossed my mind. I also cut my self for the first time. I have never had any history with or desire to mutilate my flesh but now I have what resembles a full tally mark carved into my arm. Once my mental strength recovered enough to supress my darker side I felt as if I had been raped by my self. What truely makes me the most ashamed is that I enjoyed it. Each cut felt like an opening for my pain to escape through. Each cig felt like the first, each stop sign I ran made me feel that much more alive.
Now I sit here feeling like shit again. My cuts are not easy to hide, and my mother will notice them eventually. Her life has been no easier then mine for the past few years and this is just going to be a whole new load of of shit added to her already full cart.
To some this may seem like a pitiful cry for help, but there is nothing anybody can do to help anyway. I find however that exposing it makes it feel lighter.
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? what?