Why I Am the Way I Am

Everyone is staring, but why? Am I so different from everyone else? What makes me special or wierd or so strange that they stare?
It makes no sense, this world of mine. It tortures me till the end of time. It pulls me under, farther and further. Taking me where I have no wish to wander. The pain is easy, that I can bear. But this fucking life, well, it's not fair.
I'm torn between two worlds, you see. This monster here, this isn't me. I'm trying to make things right, but I'm hiding out of fright. I don't want to hurt anyone, but this feeling, well, it's done.

"I watched it all up close, I knew her more than most, I saw a side of her she never showed. Full of sympathy for a world that wouldn't let her be.
That's the girl she was, have you heard enough?
What a shame, what a shame, to judge a life that you can't change. The choir sings, the church bells ring, so, won't you give this girl her wings? What a shame to have to beg you to see, we're not all the same.
What a shame.
That's the girl she was,
Have you heard enough?"

That song is pretty much exactly how I feel and what I'm thinking about. I feel like everyone judges before they really know the person and it bugs me. People are ridiculed for no apparent reason other than how they look, not who they are. I feel like no one cares because they only see what's on the outside. Scars, pained eyes, and they're afraid. They're afraid to get mixed up in it and they're afraid of the person, so they judge. They insult and they hate and for what reason? Just because the person looks different. Just because the person is foreign to them. Just because the person isn't like them.
It makes me so god damn angry. People hurt and cut and feel the way they do because other people couldn't take the fucking time to see who they really are. No one understood or cared to try to understand so now there's no one in this cruel world that they can really talk to and that will understand them. And when that's gone people get lonely and they get hurt and they feel worthless and then they hurt themselves and then they're ridiculed and judged and then they commit suicide. And why? Because no one took the fucking time to take a second look. No one took the time to care or understand. They just pointed and laughed, and no one cared.

No one understands and no one takes the time to. They're just like everyone else. They see the scars and they freak out. They don't take the time to understand why I did it in the first place. You don't have to cut to understand, and you don't have to feel the pain. You just have to open your mind to a different way of thinking.

I feel so far away and yet I'm sitting right here. My mind is nowhere near, but my heart is caged. I'm so lonely here, I want to be free.

I feel so trapped in my body, when my mind is so far away.
Maybe that's why I'm falling apart....
I'm alone. It's dark. I'm afraid, I don't know why. Maybe it's because my one fear, my greatest fear, is being alone....
I wake up curled up in a ball, in a cold sweat and crying. I'm so afraid of not remembering, so afraid of not knowing. So afraid of being alone.
I am losing you again.

It simply makes no sense. Nothing is making sense right now. I'm dizzy, in pain. I don't understand or comprehend.
I am losing you again.

I'm falling through space, just empty space. Like the holes inside me, except it's not dark. I'm standing on a cliff made of red rock, you're speaking my name. Yelling over the wind. You're trying to get my attention, but I don't seem to hear you, or I don't care. My goal is clear. I don't know why it's clear, but it is. I'm crying, you can see it. You try to move closer, but I move closer to the edge. Away from you. You're crying, too. Begging me to stay, but I'm not listening. I'm listening to the voice in my head, telling me to jump. I follow it's instructions, and I hear you screaming.....

There are two versions to this dream....

One:: You look over the edge, just as I hit the ground. My body laying there, still and lifeless. Blood all around me. You come down to where my lifeless form is, cradling me in your arms. Crying, asking why...

Two: I'm falling. The wind blowing through my hair. I'm finally free. Finally gone. This is my end, and I went out in style. I'm enjoying the fall, when suddenly I'm floating. My body jerks up with the sudden force, and I'm flying. Circling higher and higher till I can no longer see your small form on the cliff, staring in amazement. I look behind me to see black wings, shining with purple streaks in the sun. I can't help but wonder why. Why was I saved, what is the purpose? What is my purpose?

Everything goes black...
What now? I wish I had a razor blade... I do have scissors....
The snow beneathe me is red now, my arms dripping down. Some freezing to my arm, my hands are so cold...
I don't remember anything more.

Vertical- meaning up and down.
My arms+my razorblade=Blood+dizziness+angry friends
My arms+my blade+vertical=Death+sadness

Except I'm too afraid. I can't cut that deep. It would never work. I don't want to die really,
Or do I?
I don't know anymore. I want to hurt, To bleed, To be punished. It's what I deserve.
I'm nothing. Worthless.
My body isn't good enough, my heart, my mind, my soul, shattered beyond repair.
Who wants a broken toy? Much less a broken girl.
My time is up. I don't know why I'm still here. I serve no purpose.
No one wants me.
I'm just useless.
I want to cut again so bad right now.... God damnit.
I'm so tired of this addiction and this life. I'm sick and tired of living period. I just want to die....

I'm thinking of all the times I cut, the times I was scared because I had cut, the times I don't remember starting or why I started. The times I don't remember. How many times did I cut that I don't remember? Every scar has a story, but what about the ones that don't? Or the ones that I don't remember the story of. It makes no sense, the thoughts are somewhere in my mind, I just can't fathom them. I have no idea. Why can't I access them?? Why did I stick them away in a corner of my mind that I don't remember?

Today I'm missing you. More than you'll ever know. But you won't see me cry, or the fresh cuts from this morning. Because I was thinking of you. And how much I miss you. And how much I want to be in your arms again. I want you to hold me again, so that I know I'm safe. I just want to feel safe for once.

I never feel safe anymore.

It scares me, this feeling. I'm afraid of the fear, of the pain. I'm afraid of what I'll do. Or what I won't do. I want to text you so badly, but I don't know what to say. It simply doesn't connect. I wish I could tell you what's on my mind. But I can't. I miss you, I love you, I never should have said goodbye.....

I never should have said goodbye...

I feel so aweful about that day. I miss your soft blue eyes, straring straight into mine. The feeling I saw in those eyes, and knew it was true. I wish I wasn't so afraid of being hurt again....

I wish I wasn't so afraid of being hurt again....

I wish I could call you up and tell you everything. I wish I could even text you. But I'm afraid of any communication. I'm thinking of you right now. The softness of your skin against mine, the softness of your touch. I miss your touch. And the way you made me feel. I wish I could tell you how I feel....

I wish I could tell you....
That I love you.
I feel so empty, sad and alone. I just don't understand.

Why do I feel this way? Why don't I sleep? Why am I always tired? Why has my appetite deminished? Why do I cut? Why do I feel I need to be punished? Why do I not belong anywhere? Why don't I fit in? Why do I lock myself in my room? Why do I like being alone? Why do I have such a temper? Why do I miss him so much? Why do I get so angry? Why can't I sit still? Why do I paint on happiness?

Why do I smile, when I want to cry?
Why do I want to die?

I hate those names they call me, and that bounce around in my head. My demons just repeat them, till I turn my arms and sides red. Red with my own sticky, hot blood. Running from the cut like sweet syrup. Dripping down... soaking through the cloths.

Don't they see the scars? Or maybe the fresh cuts from last night? Why do they still mess with me? When they see what they did to me?

So people keep asking me, "Why do you cut???" It starts to get on my nerves. Then when I tell them they're all like "Oh, I'm so sorry." I don't want a sorry or for you to feel bad. I want you to understand, to see it through my eyes. I want to be able to come to you and tell you everything and have you say something useful. I don't want you're sympathy. I long for understanding and comprehension, someone who can see it my way and not care that I'm different.

I cut because it's my release. I cut because I long for the pain and the blood. I cut because I like the feeling it gives me, the rush I get. It can't really be described, it has to be felt. It makes me feel alive, the rush of blood, the sting of the pain. It's amazing. I love it. I feel all the bad things go away, and I just focus on the pain. It helps me forget. It's like all the bad things that happen are pouring out of my body with the blood.

Cutting is an addiction. Many people don't realize that. It's very hard to let go of, especially when the affecting factors are still there. People need to see and understand that cutters just need someone to talk to. Be that person, and you may save a life.

This post is kind of old. I've had it around for awhile. I no longer cut, but this explains why I did. In a way, it's my life play by play. I hope it helps you understand.

Consider yourself schooled in the way that is me.
Signing off,
Xx~WesternWriter~xX