Mike's Struggle

The Story From A Broken Mind

10/22/2011 9:33pm

So many plans today, so many things I wanted to do, but when it all came down to it I backed out of all of them with all my people. Just felt like if I was with them I would be a burden, like I need the symphony or something.  I was feeling so good yesterday after learning I lost 7 more pounds, total from start 13.  And that carried into today but slowly faded.

I woke up wanting to go bowling with B, my back up of going to NY with Nikki.  Or maybe help Chickie paint her new house. So much on my plate, felt so normal to have options and wiliness to leave the house and spend time with people.

Then the day faded but my brain’s wellness faded faster.

Warning the rest my trigger:

Now I sit here thinking about the caring warmth of my blood running down my skin, the tingle of the blade, the release of the fucked up feelings bouncing around my chest.  The pain and shame I feel just leaving me for even a min.  God can only help me know if he would take a min to turn around and see me.  Nothing feels better than the touch of cold blade against the skin piercing into me brings a satisfactory brightness to me.  But all is darkened with the hatred I have for myself and the moments I have like these, and only the night knows what is done in the dark.

Update

It’s hard to answer the question “what’s wrong” when nothings right.

You’d cut too, if you’d been through what they have.She’s anorexic? You’d be too, if everyone called you fat everyday. She’s a whore? She made one mistake that cost her her reputation. They’re a showoff? Their parents abused them, they’ve never heard of praise.They’re loud? They’re invisible at home, and want to be heard.

I’m young and I’m hopeless… I’m lost and I know this… I’m going nowhere fast… that’s what they say… I’m troublesome, I’ve fallen… I’m angry at my Father… it’s me against this world and I don’t care.

But its ironic because that’s how I live my life. I smile on the outside, and everyone thinks I’m doing fine but I’m always dieing inside, always one step away from the edge you know? I can’t be happy to be who I am because I don’t know who I am anymore.

Advertisements

Tell me what you think

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Information

This entry was posted on October 22, 2011 by in Journal and tagged , , , .
%d bloggers like this: