Withdrawal??
Lately, I find myself contemplating my recovery records. Am I really (slowly,albeit) recovering? Am I truly doing the right thing to recover? Can I really recover, in a sense?
There's no one who knows my mind better than my own, and I refuse to let a stranger (regardless of qualifications) poke around with it but...I am wearing down.
I believe drama class is driving me to my original state of depression. It might even fuel it, in a concept. True, practice with Amelia and Irene is fun, when foolishness is nothing between us. But after every formal rehearsal, my mind shuts down into a very dark place.
Every comment I receive of my rehearse is that my personal habit of never meeting the eyes of the audience. You'd think this shouldn't have been a problem to me since I can't see anyone clearly within a 2 mile radius yet still, I could not do it.
There's the old trick of looking at the wall but that wouldn't work since the audience is sitting down and would be too obvious. My gestures are also naturally shielding me from the public's eyes. Otherwise, I'm good.
Ever since the Cutting Chant (I call it), I discovered this continuous urge to...cut.
I thought I banished it away, for another breakdown, but to my astonishment, it stayed.
As days pass, it festered into a horribly unpleasant snake, coiling at the bottom of my sternum. I try my hardest every day to ignore it, making jokes and laughing with the others, but it doesn't disappear. Muted, for a while, but not gone.
I continue the mantra as defense, whenever the urge arises.
"This body is not mine to harm.This body is not mine to harm.This body is not mine to harm.This body is not mine to harm.This body is not mine to harm..."
I don't want to do this.
I really don't.
I fight every day.
Every night.
Every time someone talks to me.
Every time I get upset.
I don't want these scars.
I don't want any more.
I try my best, I really do.
I give my all.
But I'm afraid it won't hold.
What's wrong with me?
What's wrong with me?
What's wrong with me?
There's no one who knows my mind better than my own, and I refuse to let a stranger (regardless of qualifications) poke around with it but...I am wearing down.
I believe drama class is driving me to my original state of depression. It might even fuel it, in a concept. True, practice with Amelia and Irene is fun, when foolishness is nothing between us. But after every formal rehearsal, my mind shuts down into a very dark place.
Every comment I receive of my rehearse is that my personal habit of never meeting the eyes of the audience. You'd think this shouldn't have been a problem to me since I can't see anyone clearly within a 2 mile radius yet still, I could not do it.
There's the old trick of looking at the wall but that wouldn't work since the audience is sitting down and would be too obvious. My gestures are also naturally shielding me from the public's eyes. Otherwise, I'm good.
Ever since the Cutting Chant (I call it), I discovered this continuous urge to...cut.
I thought I banished it away, for another breakdown, but to my astonishment, it stayed.
As days pass, it festered into a horribly unpleasant snake, coiling at the bottom of my sternum. I try my hardest every day to ignore it, making jokes and laughing with the others, but it doesn't disappear. Muted, for a while, but not gone.
I continue the mantra as defense, whenever the urge arises.
"This body is not mine to harm.This body is not mine to harm.This body is not mine to harm.This body is not mine to harm.This body is not mine to harm..."
I don't want to do this.
I really don't.
I fight every day.
Every night.
Every time someone talks to me.
Every time I get upset.
I don't want these scars.
I don't want any more.
I try my best, I really do.
I give my all.
But I'm afraid it won't hold.
What's wrong with me?
What's wrong with me?
What's wrong with me?
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