This is a piece that I wrote on April 13th. I put pictures to it and put some of the text on pictures as well as adding some text but it is a piece that lives in a certain time and place, I can’t relate to all of it, nor do I want to. It’s a sample of where I was two weeks before I tried to off myself.
Thank you, that was in the womb of my mine for 2 years before I awoke to see it on my wall. I lived with it for 3 years and then I tried to cover it up but it’s still there. I have a photograph of me trying to close it up. I have proof. You can’t see it anymore but the hurt person who lives in that room feels it every night and it watches over the horrors they see helpless to do anything.
I think if I were born elsewhere, another time or another place I would be called magic. Instead I feel like I don’t belong here like a splash of red in a black and white movie. A friend who sees me for who I am calls me witchy – they understand who I am. For there is a reason for all the things if you let there be and a way the world will take you where it wants if you just let go.
The nickle plating on the outside edges is covered up with grease and gunk so you can only see splotches of it and there is a dark brown red covering all the silver that shows. The inside is black with a tint of red. There are chunks of food in there and I know the pan is hot when it begins to smoke. The inside of the pan has a figure 8 shaped wet spot in the middle where the seasoning on it has been heated to a liquid. I turn of the burner and hover my wrist about 2 cms above the edge of the pan as I try to line it up so it is a horizontal line straight across. My hand is flexed upwards away from the pan with my fingers drawn in with the second knuckles showing.
I press it down and it is hot, I press it down harder to get a larger area a longer line. It begins to really hurt for a split second, I hold it on the pan for a short while before a jerk my hand off of it. All that I feel is pain. Searing pain for that split second and then a short time afterwards I feel the pain of the burn strong and it focuses all of my energy and all of my thoughts on my wrist.
This is the place I wanted to cut, I wanted to bleed but no on can see that, that cannot happen. So I do my best to make there be few burns and make it be hard to see. But in the end I have one on each hand, the one on my left is a 2 inch long line.
My thoughts are about being an imposter, being too much, and coming into my old self. And suicidal thoughts that left as soon as I had the time to embrace them. And it was a flooding of bad feelings that I didn’t have space to feel over the past few crazy months.
Healing is never done, but that’s how it goes. I think we’d miss it if it ended and we would prolly just look for things wrong and drive ourselves crazy.