For the first time, I actually looked to self-harm, to death, to fix the problems that seem to be piling on top of one another.
For the first time, I no longer feel like a hiker, climbing through the mountains trying to figure all of this out. But rather, the particles from underneath. The very beginning of the tallest mountain that continues to suffocate the oxygen out from under me. I am in pain, but the sad part is, I can’t remember a time that I haven’t been hurting. So really am I broken again, or was I never as whole as I had continued to tell myself…
The funny thing about mental health is that there really is no answer. There is no formula or potion to help you get through the issues. There is no medicine that is going to “heal” you, because what is “sick” is the very thing that runs your entirety. Your heart and mind are against you, a fight against you that you will never win as they consume and control the very being of who you are. And for me, it all just became too much.
I love at a fault.
I love too hard .
I give my all, and at the end that leaves me empty, with an inability to be filled with the love of others. Love terrifies my every being, and doesn’t seem like something I deserve and yet I have it. A beautiful love at that. One that is unlike the Disney Princess stories that I grew up desiring because my Prince Charming loves different, knows me, challenges me…but at the end, when I am on my bed poisoned by the very thoughts that fill my head, will his kiss be the one that saves me from inner destruction. Or will he, like the princes, run off to find the one easier to pursue… That, that is where my mental health wins.
My mental health wins because I can’t slay the dragon within. I cannot contain my fears, my doubts, my thoughts, and I can’t contain the desire to hurt the one causing me all this pain…myself. I think that is what I have finally discovered. Truly, self-harm makes the perfect sense. The majority of people who self harm do it as a result of their depression and anxiety.. Although society paints the picture of losing the battle against the physical enemies surrounding us, society fails to notice the enemy within. The enemy that continues to break its power source, and this moment of “weakness” is just the opposite, it’s our strength. It is our moment to look the negativity in the face and say “I am done fighting. I no longer can do this…” but with those words spewing out of our mouths like venom, we poison the very love that surrounds us and could never understand.
And as I sat in my bathroom spewing those same words, I paused to reflect on who this fight is for. This fight isn’t for me. This fight is for him, them, those that love me. Those that have that same enemy fighting against them and couldn’t continue to lose.
But loss has never given me so much gain… So I sit here, broken again, but was I ever really whole?