THE COLOUR OF MADNESS
A Blog About Living with Mental Illness
Fractured
I say something insignificant and he answers abruptly. The vibe is off, I look at him.
That expression on his face, the weight in the atmosphere fractures my heart and it makes me want to die instantly.
Nothing else matters anymore. That look of sheer disappointment, aimed at me, it’s rattled my soul in an impossible to undo way.
I know in that moment, from that one look that I am the worst person that has ever lived and I need to disappear from this life, immediately before I can cause more pain.
It should be ridiculous to feel that way, but I can’t help it. Shame washes over me with such force that I forget how to breathe and I rack my brains trying to work out what it is I’ve said or done this time to cause so much pain in someone that I am supposed to love, someone that is supposed to love me.
It’s always happened with him. He holds that power over me in a way nobody else can. I’m used to disappointing the world, I walled myself off from that pain long ago, but not him. He was different, he said he accepted and he seemed to, despite all my flaws.
I let him in, and so when I disappoint him or hurt him and he looks at me like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world my sense of safety melts away into a pool of tears on the floor and I forget why I keep trying to get up each day.
It used to make me so intensely suicidal but now it just makes me grateful to be dying, and a little frightened that I’ll somehow survive this after all and have to live with the guilt and shame of hurting him over and over for the rest of our lives.
I don’t want to be bad or mean or disappointing but I somehow always hurt him. It’s never intentional but something I carelessly say or do inevitably causes him pain. And when he says he’s fine and ‘there’s nothing wrong’ those eyes burned with sorrow and disappointment won’t meet my gaze, the energy surrounding us telling another tale.
I’d rather he hit me, I’d rather if he beat me and yelled at me and told me why he was upset than going quiet and pretending everything is okay when it so obviously isn’t. Because then I would have what I deserve, I would know where I stand and what to expect.
But instead I’m left to punish myself, and I can never be harsh enough.
I don’t want to be like this. I hate who I am. I don’t want to hurt him like this. I don’t want to feel hurt like this. I’m trapped in a cage of my own creation, my wings are but bloodied stumps from frantic attempts to escape my world, escape myself yet still I am here. Always here. Fractured, lost, unable to be better.
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THE COLOUR OF MADNESS 
I wish I could say the perfect words to take away your pain. I wish someone will say the perfect words for you. To help you see the amazing woman you are.
You are loved. You are appreciated. You are NEEDED! You are perfect. You are my friend.
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