Complacent in Life; Disillusioned to my Drowning
TRIGGER WARNING: Self-Harm, Extremely Destructive Thoughts I relapsed hard last night. The rabbit hole beckoned and I didn't think. I just jumped. Wind rushing in my ears, blood pumping, goosebumps prickling my skin. An instant high, filled with so much energy and adrenaline. Tiny crimson rivers, drip, drip, dripping down my arm, leeching the extra out and allowing some space to just breathe. Just how long have I been drowning? Desperately reaching towards the surface, only to be dragged lower. All it took was that thin, beautiful sliver of silver and I took my first deep breath in months. Self-harm is terrifyingly addictive. Maybe even more so now after being clean for so fucking long. It's been years. Four years, to be exact. College, driving back to the stress-filled environment that was classes, feeling so isolated, being afraid someone would see through the cracks in my mask. Shouldn't I be past this? Shouldn't I be able to handle my mental illness like the godd