"...then it might be easy..."

Song: I Wish I Felt Nothing
Artist: the Wallflowers
Some Shitty Fanvid: http://youtube.com/watch?v=0dix-PyMyDk

Say when you're alone
It's better 'cause nobody knows you
When no one's your friend
It's better 'cause nobody leaves you
So you turned your back
On a world that you could never have
'Cause your heart's been cracked
And everyone else's is goin' mad

But I hear voices
And I see colors
But I wish I felt nothing
Then it might be easy for me
Like it is for you

Now all of these people
Come up from deep holes, pullin' you down
And it's just no use
When all the abuse follows you down
By the morning you've gone
Leavin' me here all alone
Sayin' it's no mystery
I know that nobody here needs me

But I hear voices
And I see colors
But I wish I felt nothing
Then it might be easy for me
Like it is for you

And I know you believe
That you and me don't belong here
And the worst we could do
Is keep trying to pretend we care

But I hear voices
And I see colors
But I wish I felt nothing
Then it might be easy for me
Like it is for you
Like it is for you
Like it is for you
--------------------------------------------------
I thought about killing myself for the first time in a long time.

Today, I woke up at about 4 a.m. with such a bad pain in my back that it hurt to breathe. After holding my breath as much as possible for a few minutes, the ache subsided enough for me to situate a heating pad under me. A little later, the tension had ebbed enough for me to realize how hungry I was. I went downstairs, made myself some oatmeal, and ate it while watching part of “About Last Night…”. I tried sleeping on the couch; it didn’t work. I just couldn’t get comfortable, and the pain was back – not as sharp, but there. I tried bed again. Still couldn’t get back to sleep. I watched the sun rise over snowy rooftops through my bedroom window as I laid there, the heat on my back. I put on the Pogues and did a little musical background research. I thought how good a bath would feel…

…then the shit hit the fan.

Looking back, I don’t know what happened, exactly. My parents were mad, but I didn’t know about what – I figured it was the oatmeal bowl I’d left on the side table. So I picked it up, went to take care of it, and was suddenly being yelled at for walking away while they were talking to me. Now they were mad at me for not taking any medicine for my pain. I bit back a remark about how maybe Mom should have just put on a Band-Aid when she broke her leg, took some shit about how my college education was being funded (where that came from, I’ll never know), e-mailed myself some music off the downstairs computer, and came up here to write.

Write, and cry.

But on the way up, I had that vision, the way I used to back before I got some help. Just my arm, white like the fiberglass of the bathtub, then slowly the red line, gradually opening, becoming a slit, blood blooming out like red smoke or roses, the arm getting paler, my vision fading to black, just around the edges at first. And in the beginning it hurts, but by the end I just don’t feel anything.

I need school to be back in session.