Last night I was having a tough time.  When I say tough time, I mean checking bus shedules. Not to ride away, but to step off the curb.  I was used to my depression and emptyness.  I can normally supress my self hate through my medication.  A little booze if needed.  But it just was not working.  I opened my desk drawer as usual and saw my razor blades.    Usually I feel repulsed by them, but tonight was different.  I held them, then put them back away.  Not tonight I said.  I'm not that weak.  


Then held them again, and decided who was working for ME? tonight.  I tried to put it back away, but as soon as I opened my drawer to put it away, I saw myself make a quick stab at my arm.  I was instantly discusted and ran from my room.  I hid in the bathroom as if nothing happened.  Surely if I hid here, nobody would ever know.

I did it.  I broke my several year streak.  I hated myself.  Yet...I felt better than I could ever recall.  I felt lighter than my 180lbs and smiled.  Smiled and a tear of joy ran down my cheek.   My arm ached. But it was overcast by my joy.  This.  This was why we could not be friends.  This was why I removed this wonferful yet awful escape from my life.  This was why this "friend" had to stay in its cage.  While still smiling with joy and in tears i looked at my prior scars.  It was mere minutes before I was in a pool of tears filled with shame.  I felt again.  But at what cost?  I felt joy and hope.  But now I was filled with hate.  Now I wanted to lay in bed and never wake.  Now I wanted to bring my friend out again.  

Only.... we are not friends.  Friends help each other.  This was not help.  This is why we cannot be "friends" and you must remain in your cage.

Signed yours truly.  RangerRickR.