Pain. So.Much.Pain.

(Possible trigger article) Artwork Kalisaur Artwork

I am in so much pain.  I can’t even describe it, in fact I’m not even sure it’s pain.  Discomfort maybe.  No, that’s too light a word.  Pain it must be.

There’s a deep black dark abyss in me.  And although it’s dark, it’s pretty fucking hectic.  It’s uncomfortable and distracting.  I can shove it down even further into the darkness, push it right down into my intestines and smoosh it away, but it just pings back up.  I realise now, I’ve been in pain for a while, and the shoving it down to hide it away has happened automatically.  This is why I am now unable to function and having such difficulties processing it.

My normal response to feelings, especially negative ones, is ignorance.  I’m very well practiced in hiding how I really feel, who I am really am and at stuffing any emotion into whatever crack or crevice I can find inside me.  I’ve done it my whole life.  It’s not healthy, it’s not good for me and it’s not what I want to be doing, but it’s what I was taught.  What we’re taught.  I have, as part of my recovery, started identifying and learning how to manage and cope with my emotional extremities,  and I am getting very good at it, it’s quite wonderful.  I’m learning I can be wonderful 🙂

This though, I cannot stop.  Im feeling far more than I should, than I’m capable of.  Feeling things I don’t understand, can’t understand.  My weaponry of coping strategies has seemingly gone on strike and I’m stuck sat here, naked, cold, unarmored and fending away the demons with my fingers, not my artillery.  I am struggling, and whilst that is ok (in the grand scheme of life, we all struggle), it’s hard when you’re suffering too.

I’ve noticed how much I have actually been self harming myself daily.  Not in the generic sense (I will link to an article about this), but I’ve been slowly picking away at myself to divert my pain and hopefully bi-pass it.  But you can’t bypass it.  Pain is inevitable, it happens to everyone and everything.  Acknowledging and processing discomfort and unhappiness is part of life.  Only I can’t seem to suss this one out.

I’m breathing, only each breathe is a hurricane of struggle to catch the nourishing air.  I’m seeing but it’s smoked over from a raging fire and choking my vision.  I am alive but there is no life in me.  My tummy hurts, my muscles ache, my head is a fucking explosion of nothingness.  I’m mad, angry, fragile, delicate, lost, confused, upset, distraught.  Im hurting, hurting hard and I can’t stop it.  I need to stop it.

I so badly want to physically hurt myself, to divert from the ocean storm inside me.  I want to punch holes all over my body and let all the blood seep out of me and as it runs down my skin, feel the warming life of red cells die and cool on my skin that’s raw and scratched.  I want to feel something I can see, I can identify, something I know.  I want to feel something other than this.

The thought of opening up my skin is a comfort to what’s going on inside me.  I want to hurt, rage, smash,destroy, abuse and shatter myself.  I want to make a mess of my body and throw it all around to the chaos of life that surrounds me.  My pulse is in my fingers, my arms cant quite stay in control.  My legs are numb and my mind isn’t even in my head.  Its a shotgun explosion thats projecting out of me as if someones pulling each strand of hair out one at a time and all at once.  It’s dizzying.  I’m exploding outwards and collapsing inwards.  It’s pure torture and I have no fucking way to stop it.  I curl my knees up, hug them close and hold my breath.  Like a black hole, I suck everything into me and try and make it disappear out the other side.  But I’m only stuffing myself bigger and bigger.  At some point I will go bang.  And it will all be over.  Pain, just too much fucking shitty cunt, ball biscuit pain.



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