Something tangible

Sometimes I wonder about those days lately, when I see things so clear and have strength to cope and live my life, when I want to try and see the beauty in life. Wondering why I can't understand it, not all the other days of suffering, but why I get those days of clarity. They make all the other days so much harder.

It was just a few days ago, so recently it makes today so much darker in comparison. I've lashed out on Spotify multiple times for malfuntioning and me pressing the wrong buttons. (Pressing "delete" closes the window?! And every time, for that matter!) All the while the hunger is tearing my insides apart. Hunger for food, something more tangible than cigarettes and coffee, but the mere thought of food - no, I don't even have to form an actual thought - makes me feel sick.

It feels like all I'm doing is eating, yet I barely even eat enough to survive. It's a war in my head against food, and everytime I've been aching long enough to give up and drag my ass to the fridge I just wanna throw it all away. Hoping that wishing for having another kind of body will make it true.

I know I should stay away from the self injury forum, but I'm sort of hooked. Cause no matter how carefully you write about self harm, about coping and quitting, it's impossible to read that stuff without getting triggered as a self harmer. Maybe I triggered myself when I started thinking about cutting my face, or simply taking up the habit again to stop all the other erratic self destructive behaviours I've adapted. Whatever the reason, I'm having this uncontrollable urge to just reach for that razorblade... Fantasising about scalpels and small pocket knives. Of having a little box of sharp objects and band aids. To harm and to heal, pretending it's actually kind of a natural circle, and that destruction can be a form of creation. Pretending.

And perhaps listening to "The Loss" by Hollywood Undead might not be helping either. I just don't know what to do. Asking myself if I really want to stop, or just settling for taking breaks from it every now and then. Or is it a sign of me falling apart again? Realising I don't have any control over anything, so fragile a light push will make me fall over the edge. Cause I'm always on that edge, or falling free into the abyss. And there is no reaching the bottom, for my darkness is bottomless. It just goes on and on and I believe I could fall in all eternity. A darkness as infinite as the universe itself.

Cause how many times have I told myself "this is it, it can't get any worse" just to fall even further, into a self fulfilling prophecy? The one I still believe in, by the way. Even though it has passed its expiration date. Maybe I've passed my expiration date? Yes, I believe so, that I'm living here on borrowed time.

I may know the meaning of life, but still my life seems so meaningless. What kind of meaning is it that I'm looking for, if not my life mission? Maybe I don't like my mission, maybe I just want to fuck it all and get over with it.

I don't want to die, I just don't appreciate my life enough to take care of it.