We’ve got obsessions
I want to erase every nasty thought that bugs me every day of every week
We’ve got obsessions
You never tell me what it is that makes you strong and what it is that makes you weak.
“The good things don’t always soften the bad, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”
“Nobody important? Blimey, that’s amazing. Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before.”
“If it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”
Its fant-abily-astic!!!Yes, that is a word!! :-PSerously, its absolutely amazing, and I'm so glad you decided to stay, and not attempt to run away!*big hugs* I hope this is still helping you!
"People have abused you lots in the past? Why do you then abuse yourself more?" - Quote
Sometimes I feel like I'm alone, Sometimes I feel like I'm not that strong, Sometimes I feel nothing at all, Sometimes I feel vulnerable, Sometimes I feel a little fragile
Despite my decision not to run, escape still pressed heavily on my mind. As it became harder and harder to marshal my thoughts, to get out of bed, to communicate at all, I became steadily more bitter and angry, lashing out at anyone who came close, deliberately making myself as objectionable as possible.
Only Joseph seemed to understand this, and he aided and abetted me every step of the way. One day I begged him, red faced and ashamed, to buy me blades, and later when he placed them subtly in my hand I felt the familiar thrill of adrenalin, the old urges resurfacing. Later, carefully and deliberately I sat in my room, pouring a poisonous substance into gaping cuts on my leg, biting my lip so as not to cry out in agony.
A nurse heard and hurried into my room. When she saw the damage she sighed melodramatically and sneered “What did you do that for, did you think it would make it look pretty or something?”
“No,” I said scathingly, fury smouldering. “I did it because it’s agony, actually.” Tutting, the nurse collected first aid supplies and cleaned the wound, all the while making it very clear she had far better things that she could be doing. At the end of it she took the bottle I had poured into it and took it away, still muttering under her breath.
Frustrated and angry beyond control I thumped my sore leg again and again until sleep began to tug at me, and the intensity diminished. As I drifted off, I realised, with a deep seated hopelessness, that this was how my life was always destined to be; a merry-go-round of disgust, scorn and misunderstandings. Gently stroking the ridges of my scarred arms, the words people had used to describe them mixed and melded into a stew of self hate: DisgustingLikecorrugatedcardboardGrossEmbaressingF reakyScaryWeirdMangledUglyMutilated….
Tears stung my eyes but I pressed my thumbs to the ducts, forcing the tears back. What good did crying do, when no one cared enough to be there to hear it…
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ – Oscar Wilde
‘It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.’ Sydney Carter
The next day was worse than I could ever have imagined. My uncle was in my room again, the soft Scottish words sleek and soul destroying ‘You think something happened but it didn’t…they’ll never take me alive…at least wait until after Christmas… I’m depressed…” The weight of what I had done pressed down on me hard and unforgiving. Why did I have to tell? It wasn’t as though he raped me… 9 years, 9 years of his fingers probing where they didn’t belong, his hands tightening round my neck…the swish of a nightdress as he pushed it up to expose what he desired… I tempted him, I was a very feminine child, precocious, flirty, all big eyes and curls, a complete attention whore…
I tried pressing down on the old cuts, even slicing new sins into my skin. Nothing provided the escape I needed, escape from the knowledge that in my selfish quest to make it stop I had destroyed my family and the uncle I loved. It wasn’t his fault he loved me too much, I led him on, I must have, why else would such a good, honest man do something like that. I was evil, I poisoned everyone around me, I made them bad, I made them sad…I had to be destroyed for other people to be safe. It was the only option.
Without hesitation, hatred for the repulsive human being I was pulsing in my veins, I grasped the wires of my ipod doc, pulling them free. Carefully I noosed the end, relying heavily on memories of previous suicidal research. I calculated the drop for a quick neck break-more than I deserved, but more immediate so that I couldn’t back out. I looped the wire round my curtain rail, slipped the noose around my neck and gathered my courage…
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ – Oscar Wilde
‘It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.’ Sydney Carter
