I don't even know why I bother to write "TL", I'll never be anywhere else.
For a week or two, maybe three, everything has been great. Or I thought so anyway. It seemed so normal. I felt normal. My family felt mostly normal. It was great. It was a little strange, but great. But I've been dying to cut myself.
It sounds weird. Why would someone want to cut themselves when they say everything is going great?
Because, well, it's hard to explain. Because, well I'm not to sure. It's my head. It's always my head. I haven't let the "depression" "voices" take over in about 2 years. I always, always, always block it to the side of my mind. I always do it successfully too. I'm amazing at it. But it's always there. I need a good breakdown, a good cry, a good cut. I feel like I'm giving in to the "voices" maybe I need to. Maybe I will.
In saying "voice", it's not actually a voice, it sort of seems like it sometimes. It's me. It's the other side of me that I never really considered to be me. It might not even be depression. I really don't know. I never considered it to be me because one day, one night and for the rest of my life, it just showered on me, it just came and took over everything. Like a big cloud. Like a cloak. I used to be SUPER hyper, and happy and smiling and stuff, then it just took over. I always looked for a reason and I don't know. I can't find one. Maybe it's my family? Maybe it's me? Maybe it's the world? Maybe it's the chemical unblance in my brain?
Cutting, for nearly every cutter, is a coping mechanism. I think, a good one. For me. I would never promote it. Never. It's disgusting and horrible. You become a liar, you hide it. You lie about it. You become secretive. You become everything you never wanted to be. Well I did anyway. But it helps me cope, with what I don't know. I'm not sure yet. Maybe this "depression," this cloud. I always said I'll get help. But then I always say I can cope and I can get rid of it myself and all this other crap. Truthfully, I can't. I think it will take over and win.
It's like the way people talk about Anorexica, well anorexic people anyway. They call it Ana, they treat it almost like a person, that Ana can win and Ana rules their lives etc. It's like that with this Cloudlydepression. I don't quite have a name yet though. Maybe I'll call it Fin. My nickname. Why? Because ever since I was born I was Fionnuala. I wasn't ever really normal but I wasn't this. Fin came at a later time in life, when I was about 9 or 10 and 10 was when it all happened. It's almost like another person.
But Fin can be awesome and fun and happy too. Alot of my friends call me Fin. But, to me, there's a darker side to Fin. So yes, now it is called Fin.
I'll probably change it anyway.
It's like I can almost physically feel everything building up inside me. Which is why I need to cut so badly. But it's the summer and I can't cut my arms. I've never wanted to cut my stomach or thighs or whatever, which I guess is why I always considered myself and a non-cutter. It doesn't make much sense but I don't think I'm a cutter. Even if I do cut. I'm not hiding from it. I just think of it in a different way. Or so I think.
Fionnuala is kicking in now. Fionnuala think that the whole Fin is taking over, and she's so deluded into thinking she's normal and can cope with Fin and can control it. Like the way anorexic people think, but ana is really controlling them.
But it feels if I get help, then that will disappear and I'll be different. It's hard to explain.
What all this really means is that suicide is kicking in again. And it hurts. Alot. And the fact something else is kicking in. But I'll never tell anyone what that something is. Because it will destory me.
I could almost die.