Disconsolation

These helpless scars that haunt my flesh, remind me of thin-skinned days.

When words and thoughts cut far deeper than any blade. 

Each cut, each scratch, each bite mark, leaving it’s own vicious story behind. 

Fathoming the disarray isn’t so easy right now, with a hurricane causing havoc in my mind.

Dysphoria screams down the empty, corrupt pathways of my brain. 

My eyes have glazed over, I’m forever mistaken for a china doll. Skin so delicate, so porcelain.

My skin is like a tiger’s, bold and bright.

Each cut, each scratch, each bite mark, showing that I fought the fight. 

So let me show you this, listen to me roar.

I fell victim to my mind once, but not anymore. 

Scars come and go like trains to a station.

But at somepoint they stop, so please be patient.

The past won’t ever change, so why wistfully wish.

You could be a newly growing wild flower that does nothing but flourish.


If Kiwi can cope, so can you.

🙂

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A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words

After being awake all night watching stupid videos on YouTube and crying with laughter at memes on my news feed, I thought I’d go through my old photos and see if there were any hidden treasures I hadn’t seen in a while… (I usually find drunken photos of my friend’s boobs on my phone – standard)!

I got back to November (this is about 1,700 photos into my camera reel) and came across a photo I had never seen before. I remember it being taken, I also remember the guilt that consumed me right after.

You’re probably thinking it’s a bad photo with bad connotations. Surprisingly though, it isn’t. It’s of two people stood next to each other smiling. To most people, the photo wouldn’t bring up any immediate negative feelings… but the second I saw it I had what felt like a tidal wave of culpability crash into me. 

Over the last 3 years, I have tried to commit suicide off of the ‘Faithful Servant’ about 4 or 5 times. I’ve had about 10 people all together chip in to save my life each time. Including the man I only know as the ‘ferry guy’. 

I wish I knew his name so I could write him a letter thanking him for all the times he’s hauled me back from the edge of the boat kicking and screaming. For talking to me when I was in the depths of darkness. For assuring I have someone with me on the ferry whenever I were to get on it.

But above all.

For stopping me one night and saying to me “How are you doing? You look so much healthier and happier now… it’s nice to see”.

A man who didn’t even want a thankyou for the stuff he helped me through. He may see it as just a small thing, but his words have stuck with me for almost a year now.

It’s been almost a year since my last ever attempt at suicide. It was the first time I realised that life isn’t worth giving up on. That I deserve to be here, that no thoughts will ever detract from my true worth.

I need to let this man know how incredible he is and how much I appreciate what he said and did for me when he didn’t have to.


Never underestimate the kindness of strangers because one day, one might save your life.

If Kiwi can cope, so can you.

🙂

The Borderline Blues

It’s what I call the state of mind I’m in right now – not sad, yet not happy. I’m somewhere in the middle of the two and it’s a world away from what I’m used to feeling. It feels alien to me to be feeling both of these feelings at once. I have a massive euphoria in my head yet my body feels sluggish and heavy as if I’m a creaky boat with a cast anchor.

I feel completely at peace, yet I feel so disgruntled. I’m over thinking so much right now yet my rational mind is telling me there’s nothing to be over thinking about. I want to push everyone I know away, yet I want them to be closer to me than ever before. I try and focus on listening to Bukowski by Mooseblood (my favourite song), yet all I can focus on is the mind numbing humming of my fish tank filter and the crank of the cogs in my clock. 

My mind is in one place and yet it seems like it is all over the shop. I can’t keep my attention focused on one thing for even a few minutes without becoming restless and wanting to do something else. My mind is whirring like a racing car motor, it’s spinning in the same repetitive circle.

I don’t feel negativity towards myself or others currently, I just haven’t been used to feeling emotions properly for almost 18 months. I’ve been immune to them in a sense due to the meds I take. 

I’ve only lowered the dosage by 10mg every other day (40mg one night, 30mg the next, 40mg again the night after etc). But I’m still noticing a massive difference in the fact that I can feel things again. For the first month or so, my mood will generally be lower than it has been due to the reduction of robot inducing pills.

I’m trying to make sense of all of these emotions bombarding my vulnerable mind right now. Please bear with me, it’s all I ask.

If Kiwi can cope, so can you.

🙂