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[zae1ia]

Regretful Temptation

The facial razor on my desk was taunting me.

``Pick me up``

``pick me up``

``pick me up``

Thinking about picking up that razor both entices me and frightens me. Yes, feeling the blade cascade across my skin, causing it to sting and weep tears of red, would be a great distraction. Being able to focus on the way the blood trickles down my thigh and feel the rythmatic stings that come afterwards is nice, but the guilt and worry that follow is the opposite. Sure, in the moment I’m too panicked and wound up to be thinking about that, but eventually the guilt will catch up. After guilt comes worry. Worry stays for a while until it’s too much to bear and you tell someone. I’d say worry is the worst part of this ‘process’. Why? Because worry will start eating at you. Slowly nibbling at first, but soon after, she will begin biting chunks out of you. She claws her way from the inside out until she takes over and you begin to shut down. Hard beating in your chest, heavy breaths, and staying in bed. Shutting down works in different ways. To solve the worry is to share the worry. Although worry can’t really be ‘solved.

After the initial worry comes the embarrassment. You know there will be permanent marks to show your struggle, seeing as the blade is ruthless and unforgiving. Everywhere she dances, she leaves her mark. Embarrassment prevents you from showing these marks, cuts, scabs, and scars. Wherever they may be, you’ll want to cover them. If you can’t, you play it down. You hope nobody will ask questions, and if they do, you lie. Sometimes you’ll be asked to go to places where they will be visible. Either you make up an excuse and refuse, or you go. That’s where embarrassment comes into play. People will see the scars, whether they intend to or not. Some people will realise what they are; others won’t. You can feel people staring. The skin feels like it's tingling, and your reflexes are telling you to cover up. Overall, going to that place is no longer fun.

That is what is preventing me from picking up that razor and using it to hurt myself and let myself down. I know that the vicious cycle will start over again.

``No, I won’t do it again.`` A promise you should never make. A promise I have made countless times and broken just as many times. A promise I refuse to make because I know there’s a possibility I may not keep it. That is why I am typing down these words—my thoughts and feelings—so I don’t make the mistake of breaking that promise again.