The thing that scared me the most about yesterday was not that I was willing to give up completely, but the lack of hesitation. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t ponder whether it was something I truly needed to do (because it was already a given that it was). I didn’t lock myself in a closet to help calm down. I just did it with no real barriers. And that’s what scares me.
I don’t feel proud of myself to resorting to the lowest of lows. But I don’t regret my decision either. I was at that point where being in my own skin was hell. The point where the only thing in my control was to turn my emotion to a physical manifestation.
Some people create out of emotion, as a way to cope. I destroy.
It made me calm. It made me concentrate and got me out of my head, a place so easy to get lost in.
It’ll fade, just like all the other times. No permanent reminder of this time. At least, not on the outside.