The Cycle

Part 1

"really? again?" she said with a disappointed look as she raised her eyes from my arm.

"i know, i'm sorry, i promise i'm trying to get better- it's a working progress mom." i said trying to lessen the feeling of the atmosphere that could have been cut with a knife.

she gradually starts grabbing my wrist to slowly inspect my arm. "i know it's just.." she pauses to think of the words that will not offend me but still explain her emotions. "i thought you were better than this."

"better than this."

who knew such an innocent bunch of words could hit me so hard. i really do try to be better than this, but as time goes on and the clock keeps turning, it never gets better. i actually find it quite interesting that when i was younger i used to think sad was just an emotion you felt sometimes when you failed a test or dropped a cup of water, but now? now it feel constant, always lingering.

"it makes me feel okay" i blurt out without truly thinking.

"what?"

this time before i speak i take the time to think about how i want to get out my thoughts.

"cutting. it makes me feel okay when i do it."

"cutting."

ew. i hate that word.. or at least i do in this context. i much rather say self harm or self injury because i feel like it separates it from dragging a blade across your bare skin. but i guess in the end it's all the same.

"we can find other ways.." she said trying to think of something in the moment.

"a rubber band isn't a razor blade."

she gives me a blank look and says "can you at least give me what you used?"

"sure." i say irritated to my core. i'm irritated because i know it's just a cycle. i mean this is the fourth time and the third times the charm.. right?

i walk to my room with my mother following me and i lift my alarm clock, showing two razor blades and a craft blade. i pick them all up and drop them in the palms as my mother while she stands there patiently.

"thank you." she says as she turns on her heel, making her way to the bathroom. as she enters she turns on the light and opens the lid to the toilet seat.

"to the start of a new beginning." she said as if making a toast, throwing the blades into the water of the porcelain toilet.

"and to you making progress." she said pulling me in close as she flushed it all down.

as the blades go down into the sewage pipes of the city i feel as if i can feel what bit of true happiness i had left go down with it. leaving me with an empty feeling, resembling some sort of sorrow.

she looks down. "i love you."

"love you too." i say as the cycle restarts.