Look What I’ve Become

I’m scared. I’m scared of myself. I’m scared that I won’t, can’t feel. See, since the day I was born I have had this steadily growing indifference to life. For the past year I’ve been getting this feeling that everything is meaningless, pointless and that terrifies me. I just want to know that if someone I love dies I can feel the pain in losing them, actually be able to cry, somehow force myself to care. I don’t know how I move day to day with this feeling so ingrained in my soul that at some point I’ll feel nothing, not even the fear of not being able to feel. So I moved to alternative methods to make myself feel. I put a blade to my skin and turned pain into pleasure. I tried a year ago, didn’t see the appeal. It was like cutting yourself shaving, it stung and then it was done. But now I had sharper knife. Now I had a purpose. And pain felt so good. I used to pound bruises into my legs, bite my lip with intense force, but now I can feel the lingering sting of blood stained skin. And I am grateful that I tried again. At least now, besides pain, I can feel guilt for what I did. I can live off artificial feeling for a while. I can. I don’t want to die really, I just want to feel.