By Perksofbeingme

It’s moments like this when I have to write. When the feeling gets so intense that it’s all I can think about. When I hold that razor in my hand feeling it’s cold metal against my skin. It’s at this moment that I know I’m in trouble. It’s at this moment that I have to get out of myself. I have to write, I have to take a cold shower, I have to go running. I have to do something other than sitting by myself in the dark. The lights have to be turned up bright, the music is loud in the speakers and I’m screaming at the top of my lungs. And sometimes, even with all of this, it’s not enough. Sometimes I’m still holding the razor. The feeling isn’t as strong but it’s still there. It is at moments like this when I can’t deny that I’m not ok. I have to get out of myself, and I have to keep my hands busy. At these times, I get scared. I get scared that I won’t be able to keep myself from using the razor that sits on my knee. It’s now that I have to reach out to someone whether I know them or not. It’s not that everything is no longer about it. It’s about the people I could hurt. The fact I could hurt myself. It’s about a decision. I sit here reading the To Write Love on Her Arms story over and over, knowing that if Renee made it then so can I. It’s now that I feel as if I haven’t made any progress, only to know that in the morning I will feel different. It’s now that I cry, letting my cat curl up with me, collapsing into a ball, letting the razor fall to the floor. “The time has come the walrus said, to talk of many things.” And the time is now to talk about the pain and the fear. And through words, I will be ok, and I will survive.

Previously posted here.