Random Depression
Previous - this entry written on November 17, 2001 at 11:03 pm - Next


Odd, how fast a mood swing can catch me up in its embrace... and it IS an embrace, a dark, velvet hug, warm arms, it's loving, this depression, it loves me and feeds off me and it's ok...

Leonard Cohen and Rufus Wainwright don't help, of course. And I know they don't, and I am playing them anyway, loud, long, trying to burn this out of me with music before I decide to take it out some other way.

I was reading a public diary - never mind which one - and I started remembering the last time I went out of my way to injure myself. I still have the scars from it. Little white lines across my arm, pale reminders that I exist, that I can feel, that there is still pain so somewhere there must be pleasure.

I'm tempted to cut tonight.

Kadin is due to arrive soon. I have a wonderful Caleb nearby. I'm going to get better, somehow we will get through all of this. So why am I so tempted?

Why do I feel as if I won't be able to sleep until I can taste my own blood, until my arm is aching with the sting that only steel brings, until I can believe in my own existance again?

I've been unable to sleep so far, though I wanted to. Is this why? Is this what my body and my mind and my heart have been waiting for?

There's music luring me onward, deeper into this cold, hellish embrace... cold and hellish, I say, but why does it feel like home?

It's as if there's a wall in my mind, a wall dividing off the part of me that hurts from the rest of the world, protecting me, and if I can just feel enough of the right kind of pain, I'll be safe behind that wall, safe behind the pain. I will hurt so much of my own free will that nothing anyone can do to me will hurt me more, nothing anyone says will hurt me as much as I hurt myself.

*sigh*

I've been feeling sadistic for days. Violent for hours. And now I know where it's all aimed:

Me.

I want to tear myself apart because I don't think anyone else will do it RIGHT, I don't think anyone else will make me suffer right, will make it hurt deep enough without destroying me.

I don't want to die, I don't want to be destroyed, I don't want to end my life... I just want the freedom of pain.

I just want to be safe.

I want to stop remembering how badly... how badly some things hurt me, how they felt. I want to stop remembering faces. I want to stop being frightened. I AM frightened now, I am terrified, literally terrified, of my own memories. I don't know how to turn it off, except with pain, my own or the pain of someone else, their tears feeding me, and today there is no one here to feed that void.

I wish it were tomorrow.

I wish I was in a situation where I could cut myself without worrying afterward.

I wish I didn't hurt at ALL, or hurt a LOT more.

*sighs again*

"It's not a cry you can hear at night, it's not somebody who's seen the light, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah..."

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