Shaky grasp

I can't seem to extricate my mind from its fixation on doing some serious self-harm. From the moment I wake, I'm continuously bombarded with thoughts and images of what my head would love to do to my body, if only the remnants of sanity would step aside and allow it to happen. In hopes of appeasing the beast within to gain even a momentary reprieve from the barrage, I broke down and cut last night.

Since I have not engaged in that behaviour in quite awhile and I wasn't driven to do it by the rage that usually fuels the need, I wasn't sure what to expect. Unfortunately it did not produce the result I'd hoped for. Instead of feeling a sense of relief, I began to feel more and more inhuman because the liquid flowing from the cuts did not look like blood. It wasn't the deep crimson color one normally associates with blood. Christmas red is what comes to mind, that bright, bright red. It also didn't have the usual consistency, it was too watery and would not clot.

Now I'm not only struggling to ward off the visions playing over and over in my head, but I have to listen to the voice inside saying it was right, I don't really exist. I'm trying my best to hold onto what I believe reality might be, but it's a very shaky grasp.

At times I lose control of myself to the voices in my head. I'll be in the midst of a conversation with someone when I suddenly hear an inappropriate comment spoken and realize it came from me, yet I don't remember even having the thought, let alone forming the words. One example was my sister making a comment about how cute my new haircut was and I replied that it is cute, I'll make a very pretty corpse. I think I was more startled and disturbed at hearing that than she was.

I don't quite understand what's going on, and I certainly can't explain it to anyone else. I feel as if I should just keep my mouth shut and say nothing until this entire episode has passed.