10/1/2018 : Manic Depressive: Razor Blades, empathy and what I thought.

You feel sad. So I do too. You hurt. So I hurt too.
But I feel more deeply than you. So now your sad and hurt are razor blades gliding across my wrist. But now you’re fine. And I am still bleeding. My scars scare you so now you’re gone. The fear. That fear, that we fear, it sets in. Abandonment. We feel that, again razor blades to our wrists.

I meet someone new. They are happy. I start to think I could be happy with you. I smile with you. I start to think that the happiness is something else. Love. You love me? I love you. I’m head over heels, you are everything. I will die every moment that we do not share, together. But you start to fade. You never loved me. But I thought? I was sure? So now you’re gone. And I am mistaken. And the fear, that fear is back. Abandonment. Sadness. Hurt. Razor blades to my wrists.

This cycle, it continues. To the next person, until they’re gone. To the next person, until they’re gone. And the next person, until they’re gone.

But all I am is what I thought you were feeding me. I was your energy. You did this. That’s what I tell myself. So with the confusion, I swallow my pride, the pills and chase it with whatever I can find.

Relief. No more sad, hurt, love, regret, or confusion. No razor blades to the wrists.

Just peace.

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