I have been struggling. In every aspect of my life. This slow downward spiral is starting to spin out of control.
The lonely feeling of wanting to cut myself to shreds is unbearable. Even as I sit here in the living room, with one I love less than 30 feet away, I want to tear myself open and let myself bleed all over our cream-colored sofa.
There are so many things staring me in the face, commanding my attention. Love me. Feed me. Complete. Me.
And all I want is silence.
Every fiber of my being screams out in pain.
End. This. Suffering.
I feel this ever-present, unstoppable urge to peel my skin off, and stand in my living room, a bleeding exposed mess. If I showed the world my insides, would they then realize who I truly am?
Black. Dark. Cold.
Seeking a warmth, that I am afraid will never come.
My life is consumed with things that make me more valuable, but do they add value to my life?
What is this life that we seek? Is it to be more worldly, more cultured, more family centered?
Or, is it to survive this day, to just make it to the next.