TL;DR
I did something stupid today
How is it, that we just can’t help doing things, we know, we will regret after, be it little or big things.
Even things from the past, that we should learn from, we always manage to do again, despite knowing we will end up regretting it badly.
Not a big thing, not like other mistakes that have been made, but still.
I went to the store today, don’t know why, didn’t really need it, knew it would be a problem, still did it.
First 50 yards wasn’t bad, then as I got near, and the people started to appear, I could just feel the onset, like an itch starting out slow, that you know is going to drive you nuts, and make you scratch through the skin. Sure enough Hell started to break out in my head.
Feeling the eyes on me, from strangers across the street 200 feet away. Me, slowly being turned into a beacon, drawing every person in the city closer, attracting them like a sideshow freak parading on a wagon with bells and loudspeakers announcing the presence. In this moment, it is as if the world stops, giving them all the time they need, to take in the sight, judge, condemn, ridicule. All while they encircle the freak-show closer, so they can all fit in and get up close.
Rushing inside the store, to be done with this ridiculous endeavour in a hurry, just to my dread discover, the store is packed, despite the hour.
The mp3 blasting at max in my ears, doesn’t prevent me from hearing all their thoughts. Thousand of words flying through the air, all aimed at me. Even in the sea of voices, every last word is heard equally clear.
The keys in my pocket doesn’t distract enough, as I clutch them so hard, deliberately pressing the sharp points in my hand, and I feel my palm getting familiarly wet, as I know the skin is pierced.
Not even trying to steady the shakiness my right hand exhibits, as I randomly grab a few items from the shelves here and there. All while attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible, like it was the items I was there to get in the first place.
Standing in line, noticing that only 1 of 2 registers are open, despite 4 employees on the floor, 2 just hanging and chatting, right up the closed register. Of course I can’t open my mouth and say anything, make them open the other register and move things faster. By now I’m sure everyone within a mile, can smell the unending flow of sweat, that I can feel run on my head, and has already gone through t-shirt and hoodie, starting to make it stick to the inside of my jacket, as it makes an effort to try and soak through that too, making all 3 layers.
I almost just decide to leave the stuff and flee home, just as the guy in front of me is done fumbling with his coins (get some bills or use a card next time for that amount smart guy), and its my turn.
Before all the items are even scanned, I’ve swiped the card, entered the pin, spamming the enter button, at the same time putting the items in the bag as he pass them. No surprise he is looking at me all weird, making it slower for him to finish the checkout.
Home in half the time, haven’t even closed the door, before having hurled the bag through the hallway, and I can rest, as I lean my back against the door and sit down. Banging the back of my head into the door, over and over. Can’t make the voices stop, the floodgate has been opened. The thoughts from strangers minds, turn into every thought heard, turns into every unfriendly word ever uttered to me.
Every regretful scenario plays through my head, like multiple movies playing at the same time, slowed down, to see every detail frame by frame, but over in only seconds, so for the next to get to play.
After 15 minutes I manage to get up, I blast the stereo and roll down my pants. Considering to go outside the borders, so many recent cuts, it makes it hard to stay inside the allotted space. Doesn’t matter, the blade is thin, and can fit in between, just have to accept the merging wounds later, again.
I close my eyes, to feel it better, longer. Risky perhaps, but tricking the mind is a beautiful thing. As the metal slides through the skin and across my thigh, feeling the little “tickle”, when the small stream runs down the leg. I feel the drops landing on top my thigh, hadn’t even noticed the tears until now. Mixing with the blood, making little droplets, red clouds in water, before the stream washes it away.
20 must be enough for now, besides the last few I didn’t feel, too numb, and a few also got cut too deep to feel.
The usual itch in the leg is gone too for now. It will come back, always does. If an episode or some emotions doesn’t make it happen, the itch will make me do it, happens eventually, can’t escape it. Maybe at least the itch won’t demand more cuts for a couple of days now, this time.
The “burn” is starting to fade, so I wet it with the disinfectant, so it can stick, and I pour on the salt. The sting is sweet, and everything is peaceful for another second, when I press the alcohol soaked bandage on real hard and tight.
I clean the blade, wipe of my leg, put everything back in it’s place, ready for next time, and I take the moment in before it’s over. For I know, soon the tears will start to run again, when more of the guilt, shame and regret sets in.
Just as my neighbour starts whaling on the wall, I know, 5 times and he heads for my door. Turn the music down, didn’t drown out much in my head anyway, and bangs back on the wall once. Stupid of me. Next it’s banging on the door, I just go out and bang back again. Complaint all you want, I’m out of here soon anyway. Can’t be loud again now for the rest of the day, or some sensitive neighbour might just call in the cops for the disturbance. Still never quite understood that, even less that police actually show up for that here.
I notice the bag, still lying in the hallway. Not even sure what I got.
Apples, Milk, Toilet Cleaner, Bread, Figs, Q-tips and Marshmallows….
Worth it….
Putting the toilet cleaner in it’s place, still drenched from the sweat, I stink, and take a shower. I crumble in the shower, as good a place as any, and I break down.
Later, time escapes my broken mind in the shower, I push through, and get out, noticing almost an hour has passed. Something to feel more shame and guilt about.
So I head for my bed, grab some various pills on the way, just to make sure the sleep won’t be too bad, and I lay down. Felling how the pillow gets slowly more wet, as tears again flow free, despite if I want them to or not. Finally I sleep, before the noises get too loud, and thankfully this time, I don’t wake up from a nightmare or panic attack.
Another short day, shame and guilt, for not being awake for more than 6 hours again, and equally, for not wanting to be up for longer than that, this time too.
Imagine to end just one day without regret….. Or at least, just a little less than usual.
1 comment
It wasn’t too long and I did read it. I used to feel terrible guilt and shame too, up till very recently in fact. Then I had some kind of epiphany, and ‘died’ to all of that. I’ve never cut, so I can’t say I totally relate to that part of your post. But the ordeal of going to the store, feeling like a freak, blasting out the loud music, not enough to exclude people’s thoughts from intruding into your brain…that I can relate to well enough, at least in the old days.
Personally I believe it’s time for Armageddon, and that we have a choice. Them or us.