Not sure why I'm posting...

[Magenta]

Except maybe to kind of keep myself here.

I'm between moods. I sort of want to laugh like a madman or scream my throat raw between laughing fits. Earlier, I wanted to die. I cried. I rarely cry. Now I'm numb. There's no thoughts running through my mind like earlier. There's just... nothing. No emotion. Just the urge to laugh and scream for the hell of it.

I can't feel anything. Nothing. I can't feel my toes, I can only just feel my fingers typing. The only thing I can really feel is the pain in my wrist. From my new, red bracelet. I know I'm here, in this room, but if I let go, maybe I'll be somewhere else. Somewhere nice and floaty perhaps? Prolly a nice padded room in reality but I wouldn't be there to notice it.

I've not dissociated for awhile. It's sort of nice in this eerie calm, if not natural. I'm not sure I want to stay here but I certainly don't want to go to sleep. When I wake up, I'll be back in reality. I know this is a defense mechanism. Or so I've been told. I guess I'm defending against real life. Maybe if I could live in a dream, things wouldn't be so bad...

I just want to keep going along the cut around my wrist. Just... because. It's the only thing I can feel and I don't mind it. I'm sure I sound pretty crazy but isn't that what I am? I've always been pretty crazy.

I'm realising I don't really have a reason to cut anymore. I just like the pain. I can go without now when I'm stressed. I don't have the energy or inclination to cut anymore. I just do it though. I don't need to but I do anyway. Like now... I don't have a reason to. I just am.

Have I completely lost it yet?

EDIT: Actually, apparently the writing is doing some good. A tad more grounded than I was while making this post. Still have a few disconnected threads in my mind though. Also, I'll know this really happened, I guess, when I read this later. I likely won't remember any of this in the morning... It already feels unreal.

[ReasonsForWeeping]

weird thing is i know how that feels

[Amaryllis]

Jo, I'm here for you. I've said that time and time again and I know sometimes I take forever to reply or I just don't reply at all. But that's not you, it's just because I'm so afraid I'll say something stupid, do something stupid, that will hurt more than help.

Disconnecting's nice, I agree. I can't do it anymore. Haven't been able to in quite a while. To be honest, I miss it. But Jo, you can't disconnect forever. There's a life for you to live, Jo. A life without pain you cannot cope with. A life where blades are blades, used on things that aren't alive or maybe, plants. Not you. Not people. Not on your wrist, legs, shoulders.

When you wake up, it'll be a new day. A new chance to start over, to give life another shot. Tomorrow you'll be okay. Tomorrow will be better. Maybe you won't be happy in a year, 2, 3, 4. Maybe you will be. But someday, Jo, you will find something or someone to live for.

Pain is our way of telling ourselves something is wrong. Maybe we hurt ourselves sometimes because subconsciously, we want and need a reason to hurt. We need, want something that's real. But we don't need that, Jo. Blades will only get us this far. Disassociating ourselves from the pain is only temporary, it will never bring us anywhere but further in the blue.

I think of being bipolar as being in an ocean that's been set on fire. Sometimes you're suffocating, you're choking on the water, sometimes you're in the flames, burning too bright, too painful. Oceans don't light up in flames. It isn't natural but it exists for us. Sometimes, though, we get that little breath of air, patches where we can breathe, where the flames aren't overpowering. It takes effort to stay there but that's what we live for. Short but precious moments of peace.

Love,
Faith and Trust