Littered with cuts

Depression

I am so far gone, an incorrigible girl. My brain is simply unfathomable to everyone. Years of therapy proved to be futile, for my mental state has yet to recover. I am captured by the vice-like grip of depression, unable to break free. People that try to help, the shrink, the counsellors in school, the Principal and even the cleaning lady in school all relinquished their hopes of me ever getting better. So, since I am already the epitome of darkness, I might as well be the queen of darkness. Since all the marigolds in my life have been obliterated, I might as well plant thorns and shrubs in its place, for after all, I deserve it. I am a worthless walking travesty that is a burden on my parents. I weigh them down and drown them in my sea of sorrows. All my life I had aspired to be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, but all that is crumbling down. My facade is thinning day by day and I don't know when I'll break.

At this very moment, tears are streaming down my ruddy cheeks. I am stressed and am very very depressed. I have a gargantuan pile of work to be done, along with my final revisions before I sit _for the big GCE examinations in a few weeks time. My teachers have inundated me with tests and examinations and I have seven papers per subject to finish. The stipulated time to finish my humanities papers is way too short. I mean we have to write sixteen pages in an hour and a half, and that is more than 3000 words, not exaggerating. Of course I am not so parochial to cut just because of these. Nobody understands why I cut, but maybe I'll offer some revelations sometime later in this book that holds my deepest, darkest secrets.

I am about to be kissed goodnight, on the wrist, with my blade. Cutting has become an everyday affair. The shiny cool metal presses firmly against my warm pallid wrists, begging to inflict pain on me. I tease myself by lightly running the sharp cool metal along my blue-green veins with blood pulsating within those tubes. Adrenaline rushes through me as I plunge the blade in my wrists, making precise and deep incisions. The copious amount of blood that oozes out of the self inflicted wound taints the tissues a reddish hue. The pain that shoots up my arm jolts my senses and numbs my heart aches. My tumultuous brain, a conundrum even to the experts, finally settles for a stalemate and for a split second, I feel as though I am living a life of Elysian. A Machiavellian smile appears on my face as my penance has helped to chase the insidious demons that has festered within my mind, causing me to look a slight bit delirious and deranged. Of course, it doesn't last long, for self harm is a very bad offense.

I am filled with perturbation as I desperately pour hydrogen peroxide on my stained sheets, for going back on suicide watch doesn't go down well with me. Tears of sorrow and regret mix in with the malodorous blood as I attempt to erase evidence of self harm from my room.

With this gentle kiss from my blade, I say goodnight and go into a dreamless sleep.

A/N

I know there is a very tenuous link between my chapters and paragraph, but just to clarify, every chapter is mutually exclusive and rumination has deeply impaired my ability to write coherently. Or maybe it's because I'm on sleeping pills. Thank you for reading and I hope you haven't wasted your time. This is just me penning down whatever that I am going through, but, before the ink has dried, I am starting to regret writing. I mean it's pathetic.