The drawing situation is getting worse. I close my eyes for a bit
and when I open them again (what I think is seconds later) I've
doodled all over my skin, my notebooks, my bedroom walls. Operator
symbols, crude drawings, words sometimes. Usually about darkness,
but sometimes about fire. I even snapped out of a nap yesterday to
find myself gouging something into my desk with my pencil. I woke up
too soon to try and figure out what it was going to say.
It started with “let m”. I have some pretty good assumptions
of what it was the beginning of, but I'm trying not to think about
it. The less I remember how screwed up I am the less scared I am.
But that's basically a lost cause at this point. I'm both too
screwed up and too scared.
I should start being less obvious about it, though. The last
thing I want is for any of this to reach my mom. If she saw my
graffiti covered room she'd send me back to the Hospital. Or she'd
start trying to understand me. She's big hearted like that. And the
last thing I'd want to do is infect her. She heard the details of
what happened to Graham from the police report, I couldn't keep her
from that, but she has no idea what caused it. And if I get to
choose she never will.
So I should probably figure out how to sneak some paint in to my
room to cover up the most obvious things. And I should start trying
to get control over myself while I'm asleep. I don't even know where
to start on that project, but it's an important one. I don't want to
do anything serious while I'm not myself. And I don't like the
feeling that I'm not in control of my body. I've had too much of
that in my life.
I just feel so helpless to stop it. Why is this happening to me.
I don't deserve this. Every time I walk to the bus stop I see Him,
standing there, off in a patch of trees, staring at me. And smiling.
I don't know how something without a mouth can smile, but I feel His
smile like burning directly on my soul. It's very hard to breathe
when He is around. No one can accurately describe that feeling.
I left home specifically so I would not infect anyone. Plus I didn't want to have to deal with this kind of thing. You can't really juggle normal life and running; it's too stressful.
ReplyDeleteLeave to go where? I can't survive on my own. Both in the supernatural and realistic senses. I am weak of body and spirit. I love my mom enough to not confide in her this secret so that she could hug me and say it's alright. But I guess I'm too selfish to leave her. It's too hard. I just want to spend the last of my tortured life in relative comfort. In my own corner, in my own room, with my own mom.
DeleteWhen you die, the world will keep turning and the people around you will investigate your death and get infected.
DeleteNever once in my comment did I even suggest it would be easy. It is not. I had mental health issues before I started running. Now my issues are even worse. I'll be the first person to stand up and tell you it's not easy. It's hard. It's beyond hard. It's arse noodles. It's horrific, unrewarding, soul-crushing and shit, shit, shit.
But don't mistake that for an invitation to curl up and die. Fuck, I wouldn't blame you if you did, but I'd rather you didn't because you're a person and believe it or not, sometimes good things come out of this situation, however small.
What the hell, why am I saying this, I'm just a seventeen year old mentally I'll girl whose days are dwindling, not a snowballs chance in hell you'll listen to me. However, I will always be here to listen to you.
Thanks Sanna. I know that me just existing is hurting others. And when I no longer exist, I will still hurt people. But I'm still just going to curl up and die. Because I can't do anything else. I can't take that much pain on top of the pain I already feel.
DeleteI never wanted to hurt anyone, but I just can't do it. I can't I can't I can't I'm too pathetic. And I'll probably have to live with the fact that I'm the cause of the death of everyone I know. But I just can't leave my mom. I can't do it. I'm already doomed, why put myself through so much pain only to meet the same end, slightly later? I don't fear death, I just want it to be an end. Not the start of the deaths of so many more people.
I just want it to all be over. Why is this happening? Why do we have to live with so much pain?
There are a lot of contradictory statements in that comment.
DeleteHow often does logic factor into feelings? Trust me, it would make sense if you were me.
DeleteJust pointing out that you have some experience to get and thinking to do before you write yourself off.
Delete