03/13/2011
Though I’ve begun to think my words have no meaning, I find myself constantly drawn back to the screen. I stare at it. I close the window. I return.
Through the day I am busy. I keep myself busy. I stay late at work, I run unnecessary errands, and I get home late. I busy myself online with mindless distractions and push my body to stay awake until I feel that gentle wave of nausea and the trembling that tells me all is safe. Only then do I complete my night time routine, and stumble to my bed.
Even with that do I have time to lie awake. Time to think. Time to hurt. Until the tears flow, and my body shakes. Until I fall asleep with fresh tracks running down my cheeks. But I have not yet touched the razor.
Daylight shines on me and I am busy, I ignore the hurt, I ignore the ache. With darkness it becomes harder to pretend. Harder to push it away. Strength fails me, and I feel alone. Desperately and achingly alone.
You’re doing a great job refraining from an “easy” source of relief. It might sound some strange to some to think of a razor as an “easy” source of “relief”, but all the contrary. I believe that many of us feel alone (myself included), but remember that we are not. Even when we think no one cares, someone out there does (and most likely wayyy more than we ever realized). I’m here foryou at any hour on any day.
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