This last half hour has been a form of mental torture. I’ve been trying to focus, but I can’t. There’s a time limit on the distraction that movies can provide.
I keep side glancing into the mirror beside me at my reflection, catching a glimpse at my ugly miserable face. Then the repetitive negative thoughts creep in, and fester. Berating me over and over again, my mind like a cess pool, swarming with maggots and worms, eating away all my healthy thoughts.
I squirted my hands with the hand sanitizer that’s sitting in front of me. Seeing as I primarily use that when I am suturing up my wounds, It set off a longing to cut myself again.
Peoples voices flood into my mind – Mum, Friends, Hospital staff, patients – “You need to not be doing that” “I’m not going to say it’s okay, because I’ve said that too many times now” “It’s not acceptable” “that’s so manipulative of you” “I’m so angry with you for doing this” “stop acting out”.
My mind is torn. Like a tug of war going on. Except this tug of war doesn’t have only two ends of the rope, it has many. Each pulling in their own direction, attempting to influence me for long enough to listen, to hear, to act.
Anxiety is tugging its own rope. A rope in my stomach, pulling down harder and harder. The top of it, attached to my throat, chokes me as it tries to drag me to the ground. I know what would release me. I know what would help.
I can’t. I shouldn’t. I want to.
Credit www.baylorbarbee.com for the photo