trigger warning: brief self-harm mention, blood used as a metaphor

after beth crowley

when i think of standing at the edge, there’s one specific moment i remember. 2018. early november. and you’re doubled over the counter, and you’re supposed to be grabbing… i don’t know, a can opener. but you can’t. because you can’t breathe. and you’re on the floor. and then you’re crying like the world is over. and you say you think you might be paralyzed. your mom asks if she needs to take you to hospital. you say no. 

and sometimes the worst part is that i remember being happy, too. i remember being a kid, and i just don’t get it. how this sad, broken thing can exist in the same body as such a happy person. who loves to write and read. and who laughs. and who dreams.

it’s been almost a year since then. and i still have bad nights. and i still hurt myself. and i still glorify my own illness; dipping roses into blood and calling it aesthetic. but it’s also gotten better. 

and if i got through it once maybe there’s some kind of hope that 2018, and 2017, and 2016 will not be forever.  

and on the dark nights, you tell me that it’s going to be okay. and that we’re in this together. and i’m going to try. over and over. until i can breathe again. until i can speak again. until i remember why i’m alive again. until it gets better. 

this is based off “2007” by beth crowley, a song that makes me get all emotional and that i’ve been listening to a lot of late. if you’re curious, you can listen to it here–although trigger warning for discussion of suicide and just general heavy topics.

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