Let's hope

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Two stitches. That's all tonight. That's all this time. In my leg. Maybe this is the new place? The arm is filled? Who knows. What I have known is that this has been coming. It's been coming for a few weeks now. I've seen it, felt it, heard it, and whatever else you can fit in there. I knew it was just a matter of time. I'm sure it solidified its place when I stepped on those scales and saw that number.

I stuck a knife in my leg. There is a new one. Sliced my leg open with a razor blade and then used the knife to cut over an inch through. There is something not right about that. There is something not right about all of this. 

It's quite an internal struggle. As I shamefully keep it all to myself (except those in the therapy family that know), I hold this image in my mind of standing atop a ledge where I can be heard by all as I scream at the top of my lungs, "see people, I really am hurting!" and for a brief moment or two, everything stops. I am allowed to gather my thoughts as I need to. I can "pick up the pieces" that I must. I can shift things around to move forward again. I can put things right. Then the world can start to move again, and I am able to maintain some sense of keeping up with it. 

The world is too loud. It is too bright. It is too confined to move through even when there are no physical beings around. I always feel so crowded, almost suffocating. I do find places of quiet and serenity, those places where I can be close to God - away from the world outside. Sadly, I cannot stay there forever. 

I can't make my mind work right. It makes me mad. I don't think like I used to. I can't problem solve like I used to. I can't see a project unfold before my eyes like I used to. I find myself lost and questioning my abilities. My confidence makes visits only occasionally, although I can still do a great illusion. 

Now I realize I am the demon in the mirror looking back. All the hate, screaming, violence, and torture has been myself all this time. Again, no one to blame except myself. It still bites, you know. It still hurts too. And, it can still pick up a knife and cut. 

I'm overwhelmed. It's still too much. The equation is supposed to complete like this - I will go to bed, and I will sleep hard. I will wake up tomorrow and feel like a great weight has been lifted off of me. 

That's the equation. Let's hope it still works. Let's hope.

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