Do you want to know how pathetic I am? Do you want to know how stupid I am? Today I took the knife I carry around with me everywhere (for fear of loosing it) and scored a line down my arm. Worse than the normal lines I insist on cutting all over myself this was deeper, it wasn’t as long but it was definitely deeper. It bled a lot and good! I deserve that.
I’m so very angry at myself, I’m so very angry in general. I’m so angry at my inability to express my anger productively or sensibly, I always end up hurting myself. Punching something and bruising my knuckles. Hitting my head. But this time. This time, I wanted to draw blood I wanted my anger to literally pour out of me. So I did it, I cut my arm and climbed in the shower to be alone. And then because it was still bleeding when I got out of the shower so I had to put a plaster on it. It was fairly awkward putting a plaster on my own upper arm.
I’m an idiot. A god damn idiot. I don’t even know why I’m so angry. Well, actually I do.
Today I got told to “man up.”
That’s right. Fuck your emotional turmoil, fuck your problems, fuck your sadness, depression hatred of yourself. Man the fuck up, Elephant! I got told to man up by someone I deeply care about. Someone I thought was on my side. Someone I thought would always be there for me. In the last few days I have felt that nobody cares about my depression anymore. It’s no longer important. I’m always down so who cares? I’m not going to change, right? I will always be depressed and spaced out. Forget it. Move on. Be friends with people more interesting and life affirming. Fuck this Elephant, she needs to man up.
So I am. I will no longer discuss my depression in everyday life with anyone in person. I will keep my depression in a box that I only visit when I write here. I will super glue the mask to my face. I will make people happy. I will man up.
I will pretend I am fine because it was selfish of me to expect people to care about me or my problems, people have their own problems and they don’t need to worry about me. I considered sectioning myself today, I looked into it but I am too lazy to do it, and even if I wasn’t I would be too embarrassed of myself.
I have said that in the event of my suicide, it would be a call the police, call the press but please do not tell my friends situation. It’s probably pretty sad that, if my life ended by suicide I wouldn’t care who knew, except my friends, I wouldn’t want them to live with that. Or the guilt. But all of this talk about suicide isn’t making me “man up”, is it?
MAN UP Elephant! You idiot!
The Elephant in the Room