Last night was the darkest of my entire 20 years of life. For the first time ever I let the demons win even if only for a moment. Another night wasted waiting for something to change to make my world right again to take away all the pain and bring warmth and smiles back to my life and yet once more it never came, my life a series of unforgettable disappointments one after another after another. My heart broken one too many times, one too many hours wasted waiting for everything to go back to how its supposed to be, my trust broken for the last time.
As I tried to cried myself back to happiness or t least to anger I found myself almost delusional I felt the monster taking over and nothing I could do would stop it. For the first time in my life I saw it happening but yet try as I may I couldn't stop it had reared it ugly head through all of the land mines I had placed in front of it , all the walls and barriers climbed and not even the poison my medication supplied to keep the monster at bay. My mother tells me I'm just suffering from a broken heart but a broken heart I can handle I handled it when my parents separated and never once did I let him win but things change and monsters grow and there I was a goodbye written and knife in hand running through my head that my only regret is that my parents would hate me because when I was diagnosed I promised them that I would never let the monster win and here I was letting it , giving in taking the easy way out and truthfully it felt like for the first time in a long time I was ok with what was happening that everything made sense and that I would be better off this way, the world would be better off, no more me to weigh it down or fill with sorrow, no more worry if I was ok or if I was going to do something stupid they didn't have to worry I had taken care of everything.
As I put the cold sharp blade to my wrist trying to work out where the best place was to start, not to high you will just hit bone but not to low or it wouldn't bleed enough to do the job right on the pulse line was perfect, the bittersweet end that my bodies struggle to hold on would in actual fact aid in its own end the irony was beautiful. I closed my eyes and held tight to a picture of how my life once was, full of love, support, happiness and fun. a picture perfect image lingered in my head, a collage of my life.
There I was held tight in my fathers arms, I wouldn't have been much older than three or four both of us covered head to toe in grease and grim ... not only was I daddy's little girl I was his little apprentice following his every move, but that was long ago and that bond since been stretched so thin only those who have seen what it was can still see that its there.
The next image my best friend, my everything, my mum squeezing each other tight in the middle of St Marks Square with giddy grins ear to ear like nothing in this would ever mattered that we were untouchable together. It funny to think that this image was so recent and yet so far way on a few years ago and yet it felt an eternity away coming back from Europe my life changed and so did everyone's around me , this is when the monster started showing when the monster started to win.
