The Rock Bottom called September | Dear Diary 2021


The Rock Bottom called September


TW: Mental Health Issues, Suicide, and Self Harm


I don’t remember when it started (or maybe I do, I just don’t want to admit it)... but lately everything has been monotone. Things that I loved doing and things that made me happy didn’t have the same effect as before. I felt like I was living in perpetual rain – no sunrise, no sunset, no midnight. 


I felt stuck in a time loop of waking up, eating, and going to sleep. Feeling nothing, and yet everything at the same time. 


I became so quiet that I couldn’t even hear my own voice or my own mind. All I could hear was the darkness so close to engulfing me. At times it was as dark as night, at times it was an enticing shade of gray. 


Until such moments that it called for blood and tears, because I couldn’t give what it wanted – financial stability, emotional support, easy life. 


Until such moments it lashed out and made me do things I promised myself I never would again – starving, scratching, bruising myself until it felt enough. 


I swore to my seventeen-year-old self that I wouldn’t try that again, because waking up again was a sign and that I should fight better, but… everything is easier said and done. 


So, after years and years of fighting and keeping the darkness in check, at bay, just on the edge… 


I let it take over. 


I forgot which day it was, if it was morning or night, if I had eaten or not.. 


I wanted to leave a couple of times but I didn’t want to burden Nevaeh with discovering my body, or having someone else discover my state. The shame of being judged and of what other people might think of me became one of those things that prevented me from leaving. 


How sad and ironic. 


I guess the thing that disgusts me the most about this time in my life is my lack of effort to get out, and instead I fed the darkness. I lurked in gossip forums and watched crime documentaries and read tabloids. I listened to dark music and kept all the darkness inside me, rather than letting it all out or doing something else. 


I allowed the darkness to fester inside me which I have never done before. It destroyed me from the inside out. It made me keep away from those that I love the most and made me think the worst of those who just sought to care for me. 


Then, just one day seemingly out of nowhere, I decided to get my dose checked. It was corrected and like magic, the darkness faded away and I could see clearer. 


I started taking showers again, used my favorite scrubs and soaps and skincare. I even started styling my hair again, even though my arms hurt so much. 


The heart breaking part is that I still couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror. 


It’s like being in a car wreck and being grateful that I got out alive but cursing at the body cast desperately trying to hold my guts in.


All I can see, even up to now is a miserable overweight girl with stretch marks and fine lines and an everlasting frown. I could see each and every flaw oh so clearly and nothing else matters except those flaws and insecurities. 


But at least I’m awake, I guess? 


That’s what matters, right? 


Finally rousing from the dark slumber and realizing that it’s not a dark, fluffy bed, but a coffin? 


I hit rock bottom in September and didn’t bother building a ladder till now. 


I just hope it’s strong enough to support me and my baggage that I can’t seem to let go of. 


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