Sometimes I Am Afraid Of Myself: Lana Hobbs
Trigger warning: self-injury.
Standing in the kitchen.
I need to make dinner.
I grab a knife, stare at my reflection in the blade.
I put the cold metal to my skin,
what am I doing?
I pull away in shock.
I am bipolar, but don’t know it yet,
with a lifetime of pain and self hatred
To deal with on my own – my brain is confusing.
I could never be good enough, godly enough
To gain my parents approval,
But earning a spanking was too easy, I didn’t have to try.
Now I punish myself
for things not my fault.
I hit my wrists against the counter, hit my head on the wall. What is happening?
I thought I had stopped doing this.
I don’t understand my mind,
But I know I deserve this pain.
Know? No. No, I don’t.
I put the knife back into the block.
Sink to the floor.
I text my husband ‘bring pizza’.