My Mental Decay
It hurts, at least that’s what I've told doctors anyway. I have been experiencing odder symptoms than normal. Narrowing sight, slurred connection from brain to mouth, frequent visions of what had happened. A time where life went from being so simple to complete darkness. I scream above in desperation for my cries to be heard, instead; I fall mute, disoriented and choking on my own words, trapped within a broken body and can't escape.
The time is 2:30 am, and I awaken in a state of hypervigilance. I grasp my hair hard to the point that I'm about to scalp myself. Convulsions erupt across my body, leaving the feeling of aches and tremors to rule my body. My breathing continues to escalate, my hands and feet begin to feel number and number every second. Hyperventilation sets in, losing air, losing breath, losing control. It’s wet, I am sweating from my nightmare except this time it felt so real; I was there again. After the hyperventilation stops I slowly lul myself back to sleep.
The time is now 6:00 am, I wake up sore and numb, feeling detached from the world. My heart seems fine, but they check it anyway, I always hate being hooked up to this machine. I dress myself in a beautiful white dress with traction socks. I look into the mirror hoping to see beauty, but instead, I find a horrific beast. Time seems to go by after it’s time for medication. In one moment I’m looking out the window at 8:00 am, and in another I connect back to my body; I look straight ahead and it's 12:00 pm. They call it dissociation, but I call it fading out of reality, periods of escaping the forsaken vicinity which is my mind.
Meals come, and time continues to go. I’m not sure how long i’m going to be stuck here, i’m supposed to be getting help yet I find myself getting worse. Today is one of my favorite types of days. I think long and dark about relief from this eternal feeling of numbness. I take a breath and begin to scratch my arms as if it were a blade, the subtle pain reminds me of the blades I've used for so long; I no longer have the ability to have them, I cannot decompress, I cannot feel anything, I cannot bleed.
They tell me it’s time to leave, I cannot tell if it’s been days, months or weeks. I beg to stay, that I finally feel safe; instead I am given my belongings and sent on my way. The ride home is very uncomfortable, my parents pretend like everything is fine, as if nothing had ever happened, typical. My terrors haven't stopped, neither has the hyperventilation, or the ability to reach out to others. I am disconnected, I am split, I wish I could only find the way.
Tomorrow is worse, but this time at home. All I can think about is this damn pain, and nothing else. I feel dangerous as I beg for relief, I crave the feeling of the blade but I must not give in. My stay in the asylum was supposed to help me, to cure me, but now more than ever I feel as if I'm dying inside. The visions are still there, I can still see, I can still smell, and I can still hear everything from that event. Now more than ever I need help, yet in this house I feel alone. Thoughts of my end fleet within my mind, surly dying would feel so much better and sublime.
Can I make it, will I be able to turn the page? At this very moment I truly cannot say. I have been discarded by not only my family, but by the medical staff who are oathed to help me. I’m hanging on for dear life, but I'm hanging from a cliff too high. I pray this will all go away, I ask others if they feel this way; the results always the same “no, that sounds crazy”. This path I take is cold and alone. In due time if I cannot be saved, I will have taken myself away. A toast to another day.