Tonight, when I found myself in the bad place again,
I wrapped up in my blanket, grabbed the healing rock and my headphones
and went outside to the porch, and rocked…
feeling the cool air on my face,
listening to Macklemore’s song, “Starting Over”...
crying (but not sobbing),
trying to just breathe.
But then I started thinking about how the bad place leaves,
and then there is a moment, just a moment, of relief,
and then the bad place comes back…
and I started to think,
“Is this all there is? Is it ever going to get better?”
And that’s when the voice inside of me told me that she couldn’t do it any longer…
couldn’t hurt any more, it was too much,
and she was way too tired to fight the darkness anymore.

She took over my mind, I couldn’t fight her, and like a caterpillar eating a leaf, she began to eat away at the coherent part of my brain…she is now in control, she controls us, her decisions rule, I cannot fight her.

She went inside and locked herself in the bathroom.
The fighting began again…
the little girl was shaking, and rocking and crying,
afraid in the dark, afraid of what was going to happen
but unable to stop it.
She sobbed and begged for the strong one to help her,
to hold her, to come back.
But then another voice, the one who has had more than enough of this pain,
the one who sees no way out grabbed the razor blade and held it tightly.
And it was so loud, the arguing, the crying, the pleading, the begging…
the little girl, so scared,
sitting on the cold tile, curled into a ball, rocking and crying…
the hopeless one, holding the razor blade, wanting to cut.
And me, watching this girl from above…
as she struggled…
holding the blade to her wrist as the little girl fought to live,
shaking in her fear, crying out for the strong one to come to her,
to hold her, to comfort her.

Eventually, the struggle ended without bloodshed…
and I found myself sitting on the cold bathroom tile,
with a razor blade in my left hand,
poised at the artery on my right wrist,
shaking, and crying, and rocking myself...
they must have fought until they wore themselves out...
and physically and mentally exhausted,
I picked myself up, put the razor blade away,
wiped my face, and crawled into bed.

I’m doing everything I can right now. And I need to know when it will get better? I hurt every day. And tonight, I curl up in my bed, wrapped in a blanket…feeling the darkness fall upon me. It will get better soon, right? Because it’s not that late here and I feel it…and it hurts…

Please, sit with me tonight?
Because I am small and frightened….
Please? Sit with me and hold me…