HUSH

hush.
just listen to my story.
let my words wash over you in a wave of realization.
let my waves crash upon the shores of your heart with
the power and vitality of horses
sit in silence and wait
for my rushed rant to dissipate.
share my pain, wallow in my agony

Hush 
let me cry out in frustration.

hold me in your arms and never let me go.
soak with me in wet, sticky, messy depression.
shed my fucking tears.
hush.
and when im done?
take my hand.
pick me up off the dirty earth and lead me to the light.
show me a smile and tell me;
it's ok that im not ok.
put a flower in my hair and make me laugh.
i need you...
to love me.

I'm OK

"I'm OK"

The words slip out of my mouth; dripping with lies and deceit.

"No."

Was her response. Of course she knew. Kayla knew everything. About me, anyway. She knew that my unseasonably long jeans hid scars and bruises from the cruel world. She knew that my mind played tricks on me; making me believe everyone hated me or I am unloveable. And, of course, she knew that I loved her. Even though she didn't love me back.

"But I will be."

I whispered, itching the newest healing cut on my leg. Watching me, she quickly grabbed my leg and shoved my jeans up, revealing the cut.

"You fucking promised!"

She scolded with a tear welling up in her eye. I did. I promised I would stop. But it wasn't that easy! Telling a cutter to stop was like telling a smoker to stop. Cold turkey just doesn't work.

"I know..."

"Kat...Seriously...I care about you too much for you to do this shit to yourself,"

She always said that she cared about me...but she could never love me. She loved someone else. I thought it was crazy but she had a dream. A dream to follow her lover to Australia and be happy together forever. She knew it would take her up to three years to be reunited with this mystery woman...but it didn't matter to Kayla. She told me that "when you know, you know". Well, with Kayla, I knew. It just sucked that she didn't love me back.

Starbucks

"You don't have to do this..."

These words crept across the small Starbucks table to me. I didn't recognize the voice; as I didn't arrive with any company...yet there she was. A beautiful young woman in a bright red coat with bouncing blonde curls. She just sat there...looking at me...then she grabbed my bandaged wrist.

"You don't have to do this."

She repeated. A tear welling in her green eye. But...she didn't even know me? Why did this stranger give a shit about my mutilation? She had no reason to care. She was just a pedestrian walking by me and my coffee. Was it the empty look in my eyes? Or my slumped shoulders? Or the thick white bandage that covered most of my wrist...if only she knew about the bandages that scattered my legs as well...

"Yes I do."

I finally responded after what felt like forever. Tears must be contagious.

"No. I understand."

How could she understand? She was thin, beautiful, happy, and wore a beautiful wedding band. Everything was going great for her. She had no reason to be depressed. Not like me.

"No you don't. You don't know me."

"But I know what that's like."

She confessed, slowly sliding up her coat sleeve to reveal thick white scares.

Commitment to Life

I stopped living when I was 16. Years before my first suicide attempt; months before the first inkling of self harm ever crept into my body. I stopped living because of a boy. A boy I had trusted; befriended; and loved. A boy who tore me down to believe I was ugly, worthless, and above all, unloveable. For years I hated myself for everything I "let" him say to me. I wallowed in self pity and low self esteem and didn't do anything about it. Even while in treatment I ignored the base of my issues, the root of the cause.

Until now. Now I am willing to make a commitment to life. I will commit to staying away from life threatening/harmful behaviors. In the past I have had a history of self harming in place of healthy coping skills.
But, I commit to practicing healthy coping skills like Daventry, pace breathing, and self soothes. I commit to staying focused and engaged in session instead of withdrawing when I feel threatened or vulnerable.
I commit to lessening my use of "I don't know" statements by taking the time to think and process the difficult concept that has been handed to me instead of immediately shooting it down defensively.
I commit to completing my homework in a timely manner.
I commit to keeping a job commitment. In the past it has been very difficult for me to get to work every shift. But, i commit to going to work in order to earn money to save up so I can move out.
I commit to standing up for myself.
 I commit to not lying to gain social approval. I used to "tell tall tales" in order to get people to like me.
I commit to becoming healthier.
I commit to accepting compliments.
 I commit to saying "I love you" to friends and family.

I commit to smiling.