The First Chapter

I'm writing a book. This is the first chapter. Let me know what you think. Peace. x

It’s a weird sensation when you cut yourself. You know it’s a silly thing to do. You know people would freak out if they saw you doing it. The thing is, it feels so right. It physically manifests so much of what you emotionally cannot connect with. My brain is emotionally bleeding. I’m broken and bruised. I am worn down and weary. I am shattered like a mirror on the floor. I see myself as fractured and incoherent. Only able to catch a glimpse of myself in all the pieces. The darkness seeps in like ink in water. It slowly clouds over, taking away all the light.

My Intruder laughs at my despair.

So when I am cutting myself I can see the result of the mental anguish I feel. I deserve this pain. I deserve the scars and the blood to leave my body. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want your sympathy. I do this because I wish myself harm. I don’t wish for attention. If I did then I would call someone, I would announce on Facebook what I was doing. No, you won’t know I’m doing it. I will wear long sleeves and when will you see the cuts on my stomach? If you do see the marks, I can make excuses. I have a cat, he scratched me. Simple.

What, you think the darkness is just ‘in my mind’? Fuck you. Let me give you my Intruder for a day and then we’ll see how cynical you are. Let me give my Intruder the keys to your mind and we’ll see how long it takes before you want to wipe your life from this place we call Earth. My Intruder is a nasty beast. He delights in my despair. Televangelists would love to try and exorcise me.

The Intruder.

He points out the obviously true, but manages to put a little twist on it. Very subtle and very effective. The Intruder would be a brilliant spin doctor. I am small framed and thin. The Intruder would say, “Skinny.” He would also point out my past nickname of “Mowgli.” Subtle but effective you see. Suddenly I’m not simply thin, I am a skinny caricature who looks like that kid from The Jungle Book. Now my self-esteem is plummeting faster than a shooting star.

He reminds me each day of my failures. The jobs I didn’t get. The girls who rejected me. The friendships that failed. The loneliness it feels to be me. The life I wish for but never seem to achieve.

The Intruder.

Hi, my name’s Red and welcome to my seemingly eternal battle with The Intruder. He will tell you things, but please don’t believe him. He lies about lies. Yes he tells the truth too, but it’s a version of the truth. He’ll turn you against me, but please come back to me.

Walk this journey with me.