I Am Not Okay
At one point or another. We must all face the monsters inside. And whether they do good or bad depends on the kind of person you are. Starve them and you'll never know, but feed them and you'll regret it.
It's time I faced facts. I am not okay. I never will be. Let me explain why. For as long as I can remember, I had this mindset where I thought I was very small. In the grand scheme of things, I guess we all are. So what do you become when everyone you've ever known up until recently has reinforced the fact that I am nothing. Well, I became desperate for an excuse, something to keep me ticking. That's when she came in. Someone decided to answer me. I am happy.
One year later, I realize something is off, she admits the entire process was simply a joke to her. A laugh. Now I'm a reasonable guy; I don't like to get angry. But I am also an idiot, I should have seen this, I should have listened to all the red flags and the bells that went wrong. Did I care? Yes. I am broken.
It goes too far. I lose hope for a second and for the last time. So I carve my name into my body on the sadistic though of "Carve thy name into thy enemy." After the incident, I notice these voices in my head. These images and words not of my own design begun to take form. Slowly at first, but then at larger intervals later on. I am afraid.
An end to this is all I want, so I try to vent my pain by drawing out what I see. Standard stuff, right? Just vent and let it all out, you'll feel better after that. I was wrong. They take this as an invitation to begin giving me nightmares. Horrible nightmares, some which I don't wake up from until it's all over. Trying to end them once again, I burn the pictures and drawings and they do end up subsiding. For a while. But then they come back stronger, heavier, and with a new epiphany. I am insane.
Seeing as how I have no choice but to live with the voices, these monsters in my head, I let them take over. They carve horrendous things into my body, into my skin; claiming that it isn't mine and I have no responsibility or right to stop them otherwise. A while passes and I am met face to face with her again. The one who broke me thanks to my ignorance. She tries to pull the same trick again. I am angry.
I snap, violently, spewing unforgivable words and tongues at her. I let them take over, I let them be heard. I show her EXACTLY what she made me into, exactly what SHE had done. I show her the monster that I really am. She also breaks and is driven to the point of taking her life. I don't regret it. She took mine. It's only fitting that I take hers. I am a monster.
The nightmares have not stopped.
The voices have not gone quiet.
The horrors have not ceased.
I am not a victim. This is all my fault. This is all my doing. This is what I have become. I have become a monster, and I have accepted this as fact. I cannot take back my words. I cannot take back my actions. And I certainly can't take back all the things I've carved into my body. So no. I am not okay. And I never will be.
Feel free to say what you must. Feel free to offer advice or degrade me for the sick individual I am. I will not judge. I will not be angry. Your words are your own.
It's time I faced facts. I am not okay. I never will be. Let me explain why. For as long as I can remember, I had this mindset where I thought I was very small. In the grand scheme of things, I guess we all are. So what do you become when everyone you've ever known up until recently has reinforced the fact that I am nothing. Well, I became desperate for an excuse, something to keep me ticking. That's when she came in. Someone decided to answer me. I am happy.
One year later, I realize something is off, she admits the entire process was simply a joke to her. A laugh. Now I'm a reasonable guy; I don't like to get angry. But I am also an idiot, I should have seen this, I should have listened to all the red flags and the bells that went wrong. Did I care? Yes. I am broken.
It goes too far. I lose hope for a second and for the last time. So I carve my name into my body on the sadistic though of "Carve thy name into thy enemy." After the incident, I notice these voices in my head. These images and words not of my own design begun to take form. Slowly at first, but then at larger intervals later on. I am afraid.
An end to this is all I want, so I try to vent my pain by drawing out what I see. Standard stuff, right? Just vent and let it all out, you'll feel better after that. I was wrong. They take this as an invitation to begin giving me nightmares. Horrible nightmares, some which I don't wake up from until it's all over. Trying to end them once again, I burn the pictures and drawings and they do end up subsiding. For a while. But then they come back stronger, heavier, and with a new epiphany. I am insane.
Seeing as how I have no choice but to live with the voices, these monsters in my head, I let them take over. They carve horrendous things into my body, into my skin; claiming that it isn't mine and I have no responsibility or right to stop them otherwise. A while passes and I am met face to face with her again. The one who broke me thanks to my ignorance. She tries to pull the same trick again. I am angry.
I snap, violently, spewing unforgivable words and tongues at her. I let them take over, I let them be heard. I show her EXACTLY what she made me into, exactly what SHE had done. I show her the monster that I really am. She also breaks and is driven to the point of taking her life. I don't regret it. She took mine. It's only fitting that I take hers. I am a monster.
The nightmares have not stopped.
The voices have not gone quiet.
The horrors have not ceased.
I am not a victim. This is all my fault. This is all my doing. This is what I have become. I have become a monster, and I have accepted this as fact. I cannot take back my words. I cannot take back my actions. And I certainly can't take back all the things I've carved into my body. So no. I am not okay. And I never will be.
Feel free to say what you must. Feel free to offer advice or degrade me for the sick individual I am. I will not judge. I will not be angry. Your words are your own.
26-30, M
