Last night, I fell apart. Completely and utterly. I broke and everything became twisted. For some reason if I didn't talk to someone I trusted I would fly out of the door and never come back. I'd die, without some flashback and remember how stupid I'm being.
I called my two best friends, but of course they weren't there-sounding horribly calm(despite the fact I was curled up on my bed, crying my eyes out), I called a half-friend-an acquaintance. Charlotte.
The phone rang, and I was at the point of hysteria-I could barely see, I just felt as if everything was coming to crush at last and maybe I'd die this time. When charlotte came onto the phone, her usual chipper self, I thought for a nanosecond I was going to let everything fly and chat and laugh like I usually do. But I just couldn't. I told her I was falling apart and I just sobbed like lost, suicidal helpless little girl, ignoring her, as the pain and the sorrow and the worthlessness just ripped through me. I couldn't scream-I'm in a house, I'm in a city, I'm alive-so I just sobbed instead of breathed, and I let her listen. Even though it was only for a few seconds, I had never let myself lose control like that before in my entire life. It was breathtaking-literally.
I let her soothe me slightly, and I ended up telling her everything, no remorse no afterthought-I mighyt have even told my Dad-if he was listening on the other side. I don't trust him either-its so much easier to act near him, cos he makes me happy-even when I'm at the brink of tears.
I told her about the cutting and the suicidal feelings and the dark empty hopeless place I had checked into without meaning to. I just spilt my tears, my anger my fears and my hysterics down the phone, and she listened faithfull just as any person would. -any decent person I could grow to trust, I hope. I've just given her my soul for a couple of minutes.
I let her talk, because I just couldn't think of anything else to say. She said how everyone in school liked me and no one hated me(?!?!?!???!???!???!?!?!??!???!????) and that she had no idea (of ocurse, I know how to lie, I'm one of the best fucking actresses you never knew). She said people would be devasted if i left(this world) and that they would not simply get over me in a few months as I had so accurately suggested. They said they would blame themselves. I almost started sobbing again from the pain and the humuliation and the self hate of it.
And then, I felt OK again. Not so broken, but shattered. It was as if I was starting over.
I hung up with Charlotte and my first instinct was to snog the walls, which i did. My room is tiny and prone to fits of claustrophobia, so it felt nice to like my room again. I felt real. And now the fallout begins, and everything will fuck up again. And i can't handle it as I did before. For that I'm glad it means I'm never cutting again. I'm serious, I won't keep up these balancing scales of self-harm: making myself throw up and then cutting to balance it out...cutting myself then overeating to dull the pain, then cutting to cut out the shame and making myself throw up and I can't keep doing this to myself...how would I ever find love. Please comment.
Edit 18/06/04: (apart from the above) here is the story I read before I broke down: Afer you've finished crying, review her work and read the rest of her stuff. She rocks.