brOKen

Today I woke up and felt like dying. This isn’t unusual anymore. It took me a while before I talked myself into pulling back the duvet and putting on a shirt. Everyone thinks I’m fine. I smile and try to laugh, but laughing seems like a pathetic attempt at breathing lately. I’ve felt so alone, even in a room full of people. I hardly see the point of carrying on anymore. What’s the point of trying if I’m going to die anyway? I like to think of myself like a glass vase that someone dropped. You can pick the broken glass up and glue it back together, but all the little pieces are gone now, and you can’t get them back. But imagine if you kept dropping the same vase… over and over again. You’d lose more and more tiny pieces until there was nothing left to fix. That’s me. The vase that got dropped too many times. I tried fixing myself, I really did. But there isn’t much left to fix now. Today I found my old blades. Until now they were just an echo in the wind, calling my name from a distance but I couldn’t quite hear it. But now they’re in my head, calling out. Louder and louder each time- its like a riot inside my head. They keep calling me, “come on,” they say “just one cut won’t be so bad. You know you miss it.” and they’re right. I do miss it. Ignoring that voice has been so easy these last few months. But now all of a sudden its like I’ve been reminded that the happy boy with his friends and boyfriend was never actually me, I was just pretending- and I almost had myself convinced for a while. My smile is there and its real, but when I look at my eyes I can see the sadness and despair, it makes me wonder if other people notice it… and if they can, why don’t they care? Am I not important? Probably not. I’m such a failure. Today has been hard. I’ve had music on very loud. I’m trying to tell people how I feel with song lyrics because I don’t know how else to say it. Most of today has been a mixture of I’m Not Okay (I Promise) by My Chemical Romance and Therapy by All Time Low. I spend so much time worrying about other people that maybe I forgot to worry about myself just once, and now I’ve wandered into this dark tunnel that I can’t seem to find a way out of. I’ve been trying to get better for six months now, and I genuinely thought I was doing alright. Apparently not. Today I stood in my kitchen listening to Miserable At Best by Mayday Parade with tears rolling down my face. My mom looked at me and smiled. For a moment I thought that she was going to hand me a map of how to get out of this dark tunnel, or perhaps a dustpan and brush to sweep up my broken pieces. But then she looked at me and said, “can you do the washing up for me, please?” and a few more tears fell. But I nodded, and then I did the dishes. Today I realised that it’s possible to look at the most broken person in the world, and if they smile- you can believe them. Today I realised something I should have noticed a long time ago: I am completely alone in this.