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I remember the worst episode realising this was it. No more decision to be made just an idea, solution, whatever you wanted to call it.
6 years ago · 0 · the end, +2 · Explicit
396
I put down the phone and realised no matter what I do I will always be ill. It went through my head of all the other things I would rather have and the list went on and on. One moment of calm is all I wished for, a second of escape. Thats when the hot flash came, the usual spot on the upside of my neck it felt like it was on fire, I couldn’t think I remember trying to almost force out tears but they wouldn’t come, I was trying to feel anything but what I was feeling then. I remember picking up the knife and going into a frenzy, each time deeper and deeper. The tears came quickly, but I felt I was crying cause I was disappointed in myself, why couldn’t I fix myself, no matter what I do I always end up in the same state. The only thing I wanted to feel was the pain of the blade slicing through my skin. I couldn’t stop, its almost as if I was stuck in this loop of the same action of my arm holding the tiny razor blade running again and again, my brain couldn’t even catch up what was happening, my face started to hurt from wincing from my muscles from the silenced open mouth and streams of tears. I remember then stopping and being in my room and looking at my mirror. It was one of those shitty tall mirrors that was wiggly from Ikea, but I wasn’t focused on that, I saw the bright red reflectiveness of the blood as it glimmered in the light from my window. It then hit me, this can all end if you want it to, this is something you can decide on. You can stop the pain, I know you don’t want to die but I know I don’t want to be alive. There completely different things. Wanting to die is wanting to take away life, that is not what I wanted. I wanted to stop what I was feeling, that cliché of a comment.. ‘I wish I was never born’ to wanting the pain to end. I remember walking towards my housemates window, I remember opening the door framed window and the gush of cool air hitting my face. Looking down at the stone front porch of our 3 storied house and it felt high, I never was a big fan of heights but for the first time ever it was almost a comfort. I lifted one leg over the window frame and then the next. I started thinking.
- ok so this is it, its all over
- is this really the end of me
- but what will your family say
- they will understand, if they spent a minute in my head they would understand.
- why do they have to care, why do people want me to live
- ok dangle yourself of the sill and just let go.
- would this height even kill you? Imagine surviving and you being paralysed or a vegetable for the rest of your life.
The reason I stumbled back in was because of one question ‘is it selfish of me ending it or selfish of them wanting me to stay?’. I went to the bathroom and washed away the now dry blood wrapped an old t-shirt around it, I collapsed on my bed and pulled the covers over me, I shut my eyes and felt the darkness and my damp pillow swallow me and everything I was.
- O.H
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