Short Story: My Day (TRIGGER WARNING)

Discussion in 'Suicidal Thoughts and Feelings' started by Julia-C, Aug 19, 2011.

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  1. Julia-C

    Julia-C Well-Known Member

    Read the entire story before you judge.

    Like every morning when she awakes to an empty home she feels alone and as if the world has somehow forgotten that she too is human. That life has denied her a sliver of happiness. She has spent years convincing herself that she is better off alone where no one can hurt her. Illogical reasoning convinces her that safety and solitude are somehow synonymous. Over the years she has found that every human connection she makes leads to disappointment.

    She stands in silent contemplation while focusing past her own reflection in the mirror. So many fears, memories, and regrets of past mistakes guide the tempting voices of the demons that reside on either of her shoulders. Both of them seductively whisper in her ears directions that supposedly lead to peace. She has learned from their past deceptions that they seldom can be trusted. Still her heart aches for direction, comfort, and compassionate understanding that will help unite her demons and her consciousness into one coherent thought.

    Names have been given to her demons who also have genders. Tom who stands on her right shoulder has fangs for teeth, knives for fingernails, and deception for a voice. Tom spends much of his existence clawing through her protective skin that has been weathered by years of pain. No matter how thick skinned she becomes, Tom's claws always manage to shred through her defenses where his teeth then feast on the shattered remnants of her heart. He only pauses from his feast long enough to remind her of how worthless, ugly, and undeserving she is to even have air in her lungs. Linda who resides on her left shoulder has no hands, mouth, or discernable voice that can be seen through the mask that has disguises her true intentions. Quietly Linda sits and her only actions are a confirming nod to the degradation that Tom is perpetually spewing. Although Linda's actions are forever silent, she is often the loudest demon.

    This woman who feels so alone closes her eyes and covers her ears with her hands in an attempt to block out the influences of her demons. Unfortunately their attacks are coordinated and the second her eyes close to blind herself to her mirrors reflection, her heart is being poked and prodded with sharp sticks. She then sits on the floor hugging herself trying desperately to comfort her heart as salted tears moisten her lips. Although the only sounds in the room are her own quivering lips and the steady dripping sound of a leaking faucet, there's a deafening roar pounding away in her ears. Over, and over, and over, she hears her father's voice reverberate through the room until even the sound of her beating heart is drown out by his unwanted opinions of her.

    She convinces herself that she's going insane, and the persuasion of her demons are enormously verse in there deception. She seeks out any means of bringing stability and realism to her thoughts. Sometimes her fists pound away at the tile floor until the porous grout that binds the porcelain together has been stained like maraschino cherries. She has had little worries about the long term damage that she causes to her knuckles because in her opinion her hands have only been used as a toy for her dads sick pleasure. She would cut them off if she had the courage. She would remove them like a diseased limb that infects her body with filth.

    One time recently she grew tired of trying to break the floor with her bruised hands. She stood up and peered back into the mirror but this time she didn't see herself. She saw a distant reflection of her dad's image. Instinctively she screamed fearing what he was going to do with her. Her fists raised in a defensive posture but she saw him raising his fists to her ready to pound away at her self worth. Her head dodged downward as his fists swung toward her face. It was then she realized that it wasn't his fits that she saw, it was her own fists that that struck the mirror shattering it into a hundred razor sharp shards that feel down around her bare feet.

    Her natural instinct told her to remain still so that she wouldn't cut her feet, but her need for realism compelled her to slide her feet as she sat back down. She felt the burn of the shards as the bottom of her foot spilled out more stain to color the floor. She must have sat there for an hour until the small puddle of blood had congealed. Her fingers moved across the edge of one of the many shards. It was at this moment Linda the demon on her left shoulder told her to grab the shard and use it. Linda whispered so quietly, "just end it, let the world go. Spill your life on the floor and bring your pain to an end". Tom on her other shoulder reminded her of how much better the world would be after her veins ran dry. He didn't whisper, he yelled. He screamed, "DO IT, NO ONE LOVES YOU. NO ONE HAS EVER LOVED YOU. NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE YOU. YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BE LOVED".

    Her hands shook as she picked up one of the shards and rested it on her wrist. Flashes of memories washed through her mind. She felt, smelled, and heard him as he tortured her existence. He used his callused hands to violate her innocence as he poured anti-inhibitions down her throat so that she wouldn't care what was happening to her. One demon kept promising her peace, while the other kept showing her the pain she has felt throughout her life. She could no longer ignore their influences on her. She looked down over the edge into the depth of her own defeated self-preservation. She imagined a drum roll and a chorus line being led by a promise of peace and a promise of unrelenting pain. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and prepared for the skin splitting sensation.

    She expected a burning sensation, but she didn't feel heat. She expected a stinging numbness, but it was soft and delicate. She was relieved, but confused. She opened her eyes expecting to see a large puddle of maraschino red, but she realized the shard that was in her hand was now lying on the floor. Her wrist that was suppose to be spilling her life was intact and her only friend, her cat named Toy was rubbing its fur against her demons desired target. A profound sense of purpose possessed her. No one would be left to take care of the only true companion she had ever known. The only friend who she knew would never hurt her and the only friend who truly depended on her. Toy climbed into her lap and whipped away her tears with her furry face.

    This woman stood up and washed the blood from her bruised knuckles and then shared a can of tuna with her only friend. Her lips made a silent promise to herself that she would try not to listen to the memories of her mom Linda, and her father Tom anymore. She then sat down with her cat on one side of her lap and her computer on the other side and typed out a short story in hope that others will somehow understand her.
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 19, 2011
  2. Stranger1

    Stranger1 Forum Buddy & Antiquities Friend

    I read your story.. You are a gifted writer..Why don't you leave if your caused such pain on a daily basis??Theres help out there but you have to seek it out..
  3. Julia-C

    Julia-C Well-Known Member

    Leave what?
  4. Comrade Napoleon

    Comrade Napoleon Well-Known Member

    You are so talented in the way you express yourself in your writing.

    I am glad you are okay and hope your knuckles will heal fast.

    I wish you lots of luck, Julia.
  5. LightInTheDarkestNight

    LightInTheDarkestNight Well-Known Member

    I agree with Whitmore you're an exceptional writer, very gifted.

    I can take from your short story that it's a metaphor for your life and it pains me to see you've had such a hard time in life.

    You do deserve to be loved and to be happy, there's not a doubt in my mind about that

    I'm very sorry you were abused no one deserves that, it's very obvious you've internalized your pain.

    The one person who was supposed to be there for you with unconditional love and protect you harmed you in a way no person should be harmed, I can only imagine what that must be like. I hope you can understand that you being abused is because your dad was messed up it wasn't due to any fault or unworthiness on your part.

    You are worth of love I think telling yourself everyday that could be quite beneficial to you. You've got remarkable writing talent there's no doubt about that. My mom has even told me about telling yourself everyday "I'm a genius and I apply my wisdom"

    Here's a link to some info on that.

    I can relate to you about your cat, my cat is the biggest sweetheart she depends on me for her needs and is around for me to pet and appreciates my affection for her.

    Take care, I very much wish you the best in life because you truly do deserve it.

  6. peacelovingguy

    peacelovingguy Well-Known Member

    I'm guessing Julia C does not want to be told how brilliant a writer she is!

    Sure she is - but when your pouring out your soul - I guess you want someone to say "Yes- I know what you mean!"

    Well - I'd name my demons if I could keep track of them! I just call them a shower of bas*****.

    One thing you said that stands out is this...


    To some extent Julia C - we do all have this voice - this 'demon' - or for me - another aspect of the dark side - its the worse of me trying to lay claim to the throne that rules the kingdom of my mind and through that controls the little world I have - my life!

    I love blues music and often as not - you will hear lyrics such as....

    "Nobody loves me
    nobody cares for at all"

    Sometimes - its true - with depression comes a fear of getting close to people. As a man - I've always kept my distance with most women. A few have slipped past my defences - but the inner sanctuary is jealously guarded - it has bars, cages, traps and smoke and mirrors. I laid my defences so carefully - so extensively - that I got to say - I've NEVER been hurt! Sure - I cried the blues over women - but could always walk away. As a child, I knew only love. As a young man - I did allow hate to be a part of me - but a refined hate - a 'gentleman's hate' - not seen by woman or children - I'm just another angry guy in some crowd somewhere - stirring it up - hoping people get mad and get even.

    I hate injustice. Against anyone.

    You carry the darkness - it does not mean your a bad man. I guess we try and spare people what we feel - but it comes back at us in the end.

    For all of us - we cannot hide it forever. Furthermore - who are you really protecting when you never share things?

    Well - we all face our own demons in life. With depression - its not actual demons! This is an illness - but we grow so used to the 'bad' parts of us - that we can name them - we can endure that horrible negativity often reinforced by negativity in childhood.

    One hurtful comment to a child can be carried for life. Other hurtful things - well, that pain goes deep and I feel so much for all those who have been victims of abuse.

    Thing to take to heart Julia C is that your a nice person - you really are. I've read lots of things by you which have helped others and I only hope that a few kind words in return will help to feel that you are not alone out there. We do care you know? A lot.

    And sure - your intelligent no doubt - but you have built a wall around you in some ways - and whilst this protects you - it also traps you - and I - as we struggle to overcome a fear of freedom in some ways - and a fear of love also - which is very sad because everyone deserves to be loved - and I do think there is someone out there for everyone - a happy ending! Well - I hope a small part of you accepts that - and allows that light to continue to shine!

    Its hard I know - such a struggle for us - but I think that the good you have done in life - the kindness you show here and the natural empathy you have for others will be rewarded in the end.

    You really could not carry the darkness for this long without some kind of light shining there.

    I do hope and pray things turn out OK.

    My regards as ever.
  7. mr b

    mr b Member

    Reading that brought tears to my eyes as good as the writing is and it is excellent. While you and your cat have eachother the world as to be a better place. Take care of you both.
  8. Julia-C

    Julia-C Well-Known Member

    I'm sure they will, they have healed in the past.

    The demons are metaphors but that was my day, yesterday.

    Thanks Raymond

    I will try.

    Thanks guys for your compliments about my writing ability, it's been a while since I heard such a funny joke. LOL

    I think I mostly wanted someone to tell me that I'm not going insane, that it is normal to see danger in the mirror. That it is normal to break a mirror because the reflection reminded you/me of the person I feared the most.
  9. peacelovingguy

    peacelovingguy Well-Known Member


    Those mirrors!

    "I looked in the mirror
    Gave it a lot of loving inspection
    'there stands some kind of man' I screamed!
    and there did - in the reflection!
    I swung to the left!
    Swung to the right!
    Swing to the left again!
    Fear me!
    Fear me!
    Fear me!
    but no-one did
    Because, they were all dead!"

    Cheerful song!

    And - you ARE an intelligent writer - you think you can slip that one past the PLG? Don't be denying talents! You could write a book - and you know it!
  10. capex

    capex Active Member

    Like everyone else is saying on here, you are an incredibly gifted, talented, powerful, thought-provoking writer. And any other synonym of phenomenal there is in the English language, or any language for that matter, you're that.
  11. MoAnamCara

    MoAnamCara SF Artist

    You are not going insane. To have gone through what you have and not just survive, but do well, is amazing.

    Your post was very, very moving and very, very sad to me.

    I hope today was a better one for you.

    Take care.
  12. imyouroldman

    imyouroldman Well-Known Member

    Julia, I heard you. My Universe may be an "anti" to yours but Pain is Pain. Wrong is Wrong and Hurt is Hurt. And Hatred is Hatred. I have never truly hated anyone in my 54 years of orbiting the Sun on this, almost dead and cratered thing, called Earth, until about a month ago, when the Pain overtook me and had it's way with me.

    Now I know what Hatred is. I understand it's Purpose and I unwillingly embrace this thinly veiled monster as it now whispers to me, the words that ease the Pain....
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