Deep Breath and Prayer

This is how it was supposed to work: I would wake up, there would be some guilt and shame and yet I would feel like I could breathe, like the walls were not caving in, like I could stretch my arms and legs out and feel space. This, is the equation. No, so many times today I held my head in my hands thinking, I can't keep doing this. I wanted to come home as quick as I could and got stuck at work most of the day. When things were quiet and steady, I was not calm, I wanted to keep cutting where I left off. I checked in across the board, came home, slept. Woke up, still not that answer I was hoping for. Had stopped in Oakwood for Band-Aids. Abby was working, she just hugged me as I stood there in the isle. Showed her my leg and she found me the right box. I couldn't even think straight enough to figure out the right band-aid that I was going to need. I just laid my head on her shoulder. She reminded me that there is a darkness in the air yet we can't let it destroy us. Call...

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 ...