If I killed myself, it would be on a rainy day.
I wish I could convey why I would ever want to. I told someone once that one of my earliest memories is of feeling like my brain was split in two. The assumption is that it is a pull between this or that. A fence in between choices that manifest itself into trouble with making decisions. In reality, I am incredibly decisive. I'm also (usually) good at weighing things and making a decision I am comfortable living with. I fuck it up sometimes, as humans do, but in general I am regarded as a fairly good decision maker. The split in my skull is a fight between the swirling darkness swirling on one half and literally everything else. I can't really describe what the darkness is. It isn't a desire to harm, I know that for sure. I'll definitely bitch and express frustration, and sometimes it gets extreme. But verbal complaining is as far as it goes. I have an overactive imagination I admit. I honestly and truthfully don't think I could kill anything, though. I have a hard time with ants and mosquitoes. If I actually had to hunt for food, I'd fail miserably. I struggle with food I know was alive at some point. I wouldn't attack anyone unless defending myself and I wouldn't do any more harm than absolutely necessary. No, the darkness isn't about harming anyone other than myself. Even then, self harm isn't the core impulse. It's more of a black hole with a constant and unending siren song that seems comfortable yet absolutely terrifying.
And then there's everything else. I've been told and have read many things that depression is a lack of emotion. I don't experience this unless drugs are involved. That year I didn't feel anything was hell. Half of my mind was dead and in its place was a black hole of darkness and profound dispair. When things are functioning normally, I feel every emotion like a mule kick to the chest. Even joy is often painful in a way. I crave the pain of happy things. This means that I love intensely. This also means I have to try to maintain a detachment from everything that comes across as aloofness and unemotional. Of course I fail at this at times too. I come across as motivated as well as obsessive. It's a balancing act between letting the black hole consume my entire consciousness and drowning in emotional intensity.
I can't silence the darkness. I've tried. In my sleep, it follows me. Through drugs and alcohol, it persists. I feel like I am constantly on the edge, something whispering in my ear to jump. I pump creativity from every fiber of my being and chanel it like a fire hose aimed at a teacup because I can't stop. I can't pause for a nanosecond. If I do, the invisible hand will push me off the edge.
For a long time, I was distracted by partying and then by just trying to survive. At this point, I lack large distraction. I realize though that ignoring the storm isn't dealing with it. I'm not sure if I can actually deal with it it.
I've dealt with being erased for a long time. I feel almost like my entire existence was very nearly erased at conception. There has to be a reason for my existence, other than just screaming silently into the void.
