I may seem crazy
Or painfully shy
But these scars wouldn’t be so hidden
If you would just look me in the eye
I feel alone here and cold here
Though I don’t want to die
But the only anaesthetic that makes me feel anything
I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
I’m tired of feeling so numb
Relief exists I find it when
I am cut
These words are not just about cutting. Replace the word “cut” with “depressed” and you’ve pretty much got me, exactly. People who know me will fall into two categories: those who know this about me and those who would never expect it from me.
I have dealt with depression my whole life. My mom suffered from pretty severe depression for a long time so I saw first hand from her just how bad it could be. It hurts me so much just remembering how she was then and frightens me because I don’t want to let it get that bad for myself.
High school was bad for me; I was really depressed throughout the whole four years. My parents divorced just before. I went to live with my dad and in doing so left behind my closest friends who I loved dearly. High school was when I knew something was wrong. The worst part is you could have asked any of my closest friends and they did not have any clue! I hid it so well.
The internet turned things around for me. I was able to meet people without “putting myself out there”, something that is STILL very scary for me. I was more myself in college, but still bad. Then I failed C++, which was the worst thing. I don’t fail things, I had NEVER failed a whole course/class before ever and it was a turning point. It was the one and only time I ever truly entertained the thought of suicide. I half acted on it, knowing full well that what I was doing would not kill me.
It was good for me. Good for me because I know that I don’t have the strength to kill myself. I don’t ever WANT to have the strength for that. It scared the hell out of my husband. We were in the early stages of our relationship then and he questioned me after that. It made me open up to him.
Things were so good before I moved to the UK. Good job, wonderful friends. I felt as though I had finally found somewhere I belonged. The only thing missing was my husband. So I moved to the UK to be with him. It’s coming up on three years here and while things are better, good even, I still have times where things are bad.
To me it’s as though I HAVE to feel this way. It helps even everything out. It’s not something I could ever explain, but it always feels comfortable, like I’m coming home after a vacation. It’s relieving! It never gets as bad as it used to, which is a good thing, but it’s always nice to know it’s still there.
It’s not crazy, it’s just how it is.