Am I in your head half as often as you’re on my mind? Maybe I’m just too tired to keep trying…
The words echoed in my mind like a drum. “Stop. Please. Just stop. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t. It’s too hard.” I whisper to myself at 3:00 am on a Sunday morning. I’m so empty and numb that it’s terrifying. I don’t feel anything anymore. I just wish I could feel something. Thousands of nights I lay in bed, staring at a blank wall, alone. Always alone.
You see, that’s why people harm themselves. They just want to feel something, even if it is only for a few seconds. Those 4 seconds when the blood drips down your skin; those 4 seconds when the cigarette begins to burn your flesh… That’s it. Even if it is only for 4 seconds, at least I feel something. It’s the control aspect of it. Everything around you is falling apart, so at least I can be in control of something.
I’ve learned that it’s not my place to save people. I can’t save everyone. Hell, I can’t even save myself…
I don’t want to be heard, I want to be listened to.
“It comes and goes in waves. It comes and goes in waves. It carries us away.”
These three lines Dean Lewis wrote hit so close to home every single time I hear it. When the love of my life committed suicide, this was exactly how the pain felt. It hit me in waves, and it hurt like hell. I loved and I loved and I lost him. (Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie.) I cannot begin to describe how many times I felt like I could’ve stopped him if I had made the call five seconds sooner. But I didn’t. And that’s just something I have to deal with. I loved this guy with all of my heart. I don’t think I’ll ever feel like that for someone again. I let him break down my walls, and when he died, they shot up faster than ever before. Now I have shut myself down. No one needs to know how I’m doing. I’ll smile, so they think I’m fine… because I am fine, right? Or is that just what I tell myself to help me sleep at night? Either way, no one needs to know. Anyways, that’s all for today.