Fucked Up Me

Copyright, Elin

I’m 26, I’ve self-harmed lightly for ten years. That’s up till a year ago. I sliced my arm had to get 20 stitches. Nobody talked about it in hospital. Was stitched up and sent home. My parents ignored the situation, that’s OK, their choice. Since then I cut daily. The thing is I don’t know why, it doesn’t hurt. I have no feelings about it at all. In truth I have no feelings about anything anymore. What’s the point? After all our time here is just that time. What does it matter what we do, who we are, ultimately it doesn’t. I’ve always known that for as long as I can remember. I used to tell myself I’d find my life in time. I may be having a crap time now but it can only get better can’t it?

I know now that this is not the case. It never gets better. In truth I’ve always known that. This ‘life’ is just a scam. A way to keep us occupied when really there is nothing here. The only true peace we have with ourselves is in death. A peace I long wish for.

Nothing has meaning or purpose anymore, I’ve seen through it and no longer want to play this game. I want out. There is no reason for the cutting that I know. There is no why anymore. Everything feels empty and lost.

This is my attempt to stop me falling deeper into the cascade of darkness I have been thrown into. Maybe there is no way out. Does anyone know the way out?


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