The darkness of death

lighted candle
Photo by Rahul on

My old enemy is back; the darkness.

I am lost again. This time deeper into the darkness than I have ever been before. I no longer feel alive. I am just breathing. I am just existing from one day to the next.

I am broken. Worn down by being hurt over and over again by those I have loved and trusted. I am tired. Tired of people. Tired of life. Death seems more inviting than life. Death seems peaceful.

I am sad all the time. It is a sadness so heavy that I cannot escape it. It fills my legs up and weighs me down, each step becoming harder to take. The weight of deep depression. An anchor that I am unable to lift. You don’t need water to feel like you are drowning.

My eyes are red and swollen. Partly from lack of sleep, partly from the tears that I cry behind closed doors. Make-up helps a little, but it is becoming harder to hide the tiredness and pain.

My heart feels broken. Literally broken. Cut into tiny pieces by every person who has ever hurt me. It feels like shards of glass are piercing my chest with every new breath I try to take. I am sure my heart is physically broken. It hurts so much, it has to be.

As for my smile, well that has always been easy to fake, until now. Now the darkness, the sadness, the pain has become too much. I don’t know how to smile anymore.

Don’t get me wrong, I try, I try really bloody hard, but it is the fakest smile I have ever worn. Look closer. Look behind the smile, look deep into my eyes, you will see, I am barely alive. The darkness is taking more of my soul as each day goes by.

I am isolated, lonely, but I don’t want to be near anyone. For it is so much safer not to let the world touch me anymore. So much safer not to feel. Feeling hurts. Feeling breaks me.

Slowly the bad thoughts enter my head again. The darkness puts them there. Except this time it is different. This time they are stronger. They want more damage. They want more pain. They want me.
I have tried to ignore them. I have tried to control them, one little cut at a time. But the urges are too great. The darkness is too strong.

Tired of emotional pain, I need to feel something else. Something physical. Partly to feel anything other that what is inside my heart at this moment, partly to know I am still alive. It is not a want, as non self-harmers believe. It is a need. I NEED this or I am going to implode!

I know it is dangerous to cut when I am so low but I cannot control it. I am not strong enough. I need to do something. What non self-harmers don’t understand, is that if I don’t cut, I am likely to do something much worse. Believe it or not, with the way I feel in this one moment, self-harm is the lesser of two evils.

I pick up a blade from one of my hidden places, this time one of the sharpest ones. Unusually, this time, I glide the blade across my leg, knowing deep down that if I do more damage than usual, my legs are easier to hide.

Gradually the blood begins to show itself. Then, as my hand presses the blade even deeper into my skin, red begins to trickle down my leg. I do not stop yet though, not until I feel it. Not until I feel the pain that is about to hit me. Only then will I know I am still alive. Only then will I know that my heart is somehow still together enough to beat another beat.

Death seems more inviting than life. Death seems peaceful. But the darkness hasn’t got me yet.

I am tired, exhausted from trying to be stronger than I feel, but I am still fighting. I cannot say I am living, for I do not feel alive. The sadness makes it that way. But I am surviving.

Somehow, and I don’t know how, something inside of me is strong enough to keep going. A tiny thread somewhere hanging on to the smallest of hopes that maybe, one day, I will be truly happy. That finally I will know what it feels like to really be alive. Without pain, without fear, without sadness. Without the burdens of a tortured childhood.

Somewhere deep inside me there is a light, slowly shimmering, knowing that if I can just hold on and make it through this journey, it will eventually burn so bright that it will help others like me see their way out of the darkness. It knows that that is what I am here for, that that is my purpose on this earth even when I struggle to see it.

Death seems mores inviting than life. Death seems peaceful. But death hasn’t got me yet.

Thanks for reading.
** Image courtesy of Google Images **

3 thoughts on “The darkness of death

  1. One day at a time, one hour at a time, one minute at a time. I have been in this dark place before. It nearly took my life. Death almost won. I promise life WILL be so much better once you fully recover from the abuse and leave these toxic Relationships. Deep chronic depression LIES to us. Keep holding on, One breath at a time. There is a beautiful life waiting for you right around the corner. Thank you for putting into words how so many of us feel. I am always here for you now and forever.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Dear Gemma

    YOU. ARE. ENOUGH!!!!!
    YOU. ARE. LOVED!!!!!

    Keep writing, because you are needed by so many, and I believe that putting your pain on paper helps to remove it from you physically…like vomiting when you’re sick. Get that $#/% out! Sometimes it’s very unpleasant at the time, but there’s usually relief after…

    Sending much love, and prayers for peace and hope to cheer you on your way out of the dark pit. We all have spent some time ‘in the pits’…but they are NOT our/your home! Keep moving forward. Many, many of us are standing with you as you leave the past where it belongs…in the past!
    Take gentle care of yourself, especially now… YOU.ARE.DEARLY. LOVED!!!!! 💖

    Liked by 1 person

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