When I was younger, I think around age ten or so, I used to melt crayons onto my arms. I thought it was just because I liked how the colors looked on my skin. The way it felt, I didn't necessarily hate it, but it made me feel better when I did that. Now, I started doing that again, recently. Just as a random artistic thing to do. Only, I was wrong about why I was doing it before. I realized that, me doing that when I was younger, was where my self harm issue probably started. I mean, it doesn't hurt a lot by any means, but the slight burn is enough when you're ten years old. It started with the crayon melting, and unfortunately, it's escalated into a few other things. It's just so crazy to me that it never really went away. Clearly, my brain is wired wrong, because there will never be a time in what's left of my life, where I won't be hurting myself. Clearly, I'm wired wrong, because I don't see society and people in the same way that most people do. I've never felt right, I've always felt wrong, like there's a lot wrong with me. I can't be fixed, I'm beyond any kind of help. Most people would find that upsetting, and it's understandable. Me, I don't find it upsetting. It's just a sad but true fact. I was never meant to be alive.
Contrary to popular belief, I don't really try to encourage the feelings that I have. At least not towards other people that are in my position. That makes me a huge hypocrite, I know. Honestly, it just breaks my heart knowing that other people have to feel like this. It's a pain so evil, that it controls every aspect of your life. In my experience, society seeks weaker people out. People see our tears, our scars, and insecurities, and use them to take us out. Sounds like I'm being dramatic, only I'm not. I've just been on this low level for such a long time. I wanted to help other people with these problems, I wanted to teach people how to survive. Well, the truth is....I can't help anybody because it turns out I don't know how to survive. Since I can't be helped, I have no right to try and guide others. It wouldn't be fair at all. Me not being in people's lives seems fair, and it makes more sense. I think it's important to be able to forgive yourself for the years that mental illness took away from your life. I can't forgive myself for that.
Being strong enough to survive in our society today is so important. Sure, things seem to be changing for the better. It appears that minds are opening and acceptance is spreading. That makes me smile, I love that the world is changing. But, it's still way too scary. One of most terrifying things in this world is that you never know what somebody's true intentions are. I'm finding out the hard way, over and over again that more often than not, people's intentions are bad. Being a nice, friendly person means that your clingy and creepy. Trying to help, means you're being invasive and nosy. Backing away and staying and avoiding drama, makes you insensitive and bitchy. Being an emotional person that wants to talk things out, means that you're a weak baby, that needs to suck things up. If you don't like to be laughed at, or insulted, you're taking things too seriously, and need to lighten up. There is no winning, it's a mess. None of that is worth the pain of having people hate you for being who you are.
I think that I'm being tortured by my own mind. Society, along with humanity, test me day by day, and I'm failing. Tested by the world, tortured by my own mental illness. It's just not a way to live. I wish that I could say, going back to being ten years old would make it better. I wish melting crayons on myself was enough. The truth is, I've escalated. I'm too far gone, and there is clearly no coming back.
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