It rushes inside me, appearing in an instant. But I know it’s there at all times, building, waiting for me to snap.
It’s a hurricane trapped in my skin. An swirling vortex of hate and anger and panic that I can’t handle. It pulls the thoughts out of my mind and the breath out of my body until I can’t breathe and I can’t think. My head starts to pound and heart thumps so fast I feel like I’ll never be whole again. Tears start to choke their way out of my eyes as I scramble to stay in control of myself.
But it never works. The only way I can get back to the state of being I call normalcy is that cut. Pulling the blade across my skin, relishing in the stinging pain. The white slowly turning to red, watching the skin break apart to make way for the razor. Only as the stinging slowly subsides and the blood begins to dry do I calm down. I can breathe again. My hands are still shaking but I can survive it now.