Freaking body –

It has been a really long time since I have had anything really ugly to post about. Have had some bumpy days and sad moments but nothing really fugly dark, like right now.

This is just weird, for lack of any more educated a word.  Guess I just need to get this shit out, tell someone how I’m doing and “let it go” – a theme for this Tuesday it seems. Will not make sense to any of you sane, normal people. The rest of you, no, do not mail any pills. I just want to vent.

So – after just one too many little failures, on a day when I already lacking the energy or the focus to face it, I just shut down. I’ve no idea the number of years since the last time I was so completely defeated in everything that all I could do was go to bed. Not even just a fuck-it kinda thing where’s the sofa, a bad book or movie will do. Under the covers, not even faking reading.

I must have fallen asleep. I only say that because I recall waking up.  My wrists hurt. Not like the I slept wrong or to tight shoulders hurt. Not the to tingly nerve pain thing or faux carpel tunnel. This was a pain like I was injured. The funny thing was I was not interested in looking. I just thought, so this is what it feels like to cut your wrists. Interesting. I didn’t look because the one part of my head was saying, hey, no warm wet feeling, so not real. The other part was wondering why my hands felt curled up towards my forearms. If the tendons were severed, there would be no tension. The other side, see, that’s why its a dream.

I was awake though. Very clearly awake and all I could think was, so this is what it feels like to cut your wrists, not so bad. So this is what if feel like to cut your wrist. So this is what it’s like. So this is …..

It felt like hours of that one thought. Hours of wondering why it felt like it felt and why didn’t I look? Hours of waiting to feel like it was loosing blood. Nothing. Just hours of one voice saying do it and one saying shut the fuck up.

It was only about one hour. It took that long for me to actually find a way to move.  I looked at my arms. They were clenched and curled. I put on some sweats and went to find my instruction sheet. A little piece of paper with a list I wrote on a day I felt so alive, so positive, so certain I would never need it, that I laughed out loud while I wrote it. I also thought is was stupid because, hey, if I was that dark, I would not believe this note. I would probably not even go find it.

I made coffee, and read the note. I vacuumed around the rat cage and read the note. I watched the birds outside sneak in some seed before dark and read the note. I’ve been up for an hour and my wrists still hurt. I can still hear that voice, so this is what it feels like, not so bad is it? I opened my phone the turned it off. I only promised to call in an emergency, and  I read the note. I scrolled through my address book a dozen times and read my note.

I thought for a long time about why I was not thinking about going to the bar. I thought more about a giant bowl of ice cream with Zoloft and Valium sprinkles.

I thought all the conflicting voices had gone away. I thought this kind of thinking had gone away. I don’t remember ever before having this intense a physical sensation of anything. It is as if my body, my arms are telling me what to do. Match the action to the word and word to the action, acting 101.  I’ve been up and about over an hour and it still hurts.

So – taped my note on side of one monitor and turn to you. Tell you about it. To get it out so I can read it and realize its fucking nuts. It’s just my body playing hide and seek with my head. Funny, one of the comments this morning was, “Well, you could always end up lower, further down than you are now, right?” Fuckin’-A-right I could. I did not take as a challenge at the time. The thought that is was just a buck-up-lil-camper-comment.

Yup, when my mind uses its own mind, things get at kinda weird.

My wrists hurt. Real pain. My head is a mess. It is hard to breathe. Of course, I am sitting with vulture-like posture, so that could be a separate issue. I want to be angry but can only scrounge up disappointment.