It Hurts...Everything Hurts (A Poem)

It hurts...
Everything hurts

The walls...
are caving in

It hurts...
Everything Hurts

I breathe...
but I'm not alive

I drown...
In blood...
In my own tears

It hurts...
Everything hurts

I'm shattered...
Broken...
Dying...
Planning death

Broken...
Bleeding...
Crushed...

It hurts...
Everything hurts

Overcoming My Own Addiction

Every single human is addicted to something, whether it is facebook, drugs or anything else in the world. We are human, it is part of who we are. I myself am overcoming my very own addiction. The addiction I am overcoming is the addiction to self mutilation (or as people most commonly know it, cutting.) When most people think about cutting they think about a phase that a rebellious teenager may go through. Well for some people that may be the case it is definitely not for me. I have been a cutter since the age of 14 which equals out to about 5 years. There were many different circumstances that led me to try this method of making myself feel something. You see, I had been numb for such a long time that all I really wanted was to make sure I was really still alive. For the longest time I was frustrated because I couldn't cut deep enough to actually bleed. Part of that was because I was scared but the other part of it was that I was using staples because I did not want my parents to find out. I was always very sanitary about it, never wanting to get an infection and have to explain why I was doing this. Then, one day, I decided I needed help. I went to my school counselor and she called my parents and made them take me to the emergency room. The nurses laughed at me and told me I was doing it wrong and that if I kept doing it the way I was doing it I would never end up killing myself. This hurt, but I was also glad because my intention was never to kill myself, I just wanted to feel pain to assure me I was still alive. The doctor then sent me to a mental hospital called Harbor Oaks. I was only there overnight because I convinced them that I was fine and wouldn't ever do it again. Now I was back in the real world, and it sucked. The worse it got the more I cut. I moved up from staples to box cutters. My step-father installed carpet for a living at that point in time so they were very easy to get. I finally cut deep enough to actually bleed, and at that point I know I was not going to be able to stop. Long sleeves and bracelets became my best friends, I retreated from the world scared someone would find out, and soon enough they did. I was sent back to the emergency room and this time they sent me to Havenwyck, another mental hospital. I was there for a while because they were not quite as easy to convince. Once I got out my dad checked my arms all the time...I tried cutting my legs but that wasn't nearly as satisfying. Then he kicked me out and I was free from the arm checking and I could cut wherever I wanted again. I cut all over my arms reopening old scars if I had to I just wanted to bleed. Then after a while I got better I went three months without cutting, but after those three months and just before I left to go to college, I freaked out cut my arms up so bad there wasn't a place that wasn't covered in blood it was dripping to the carpet, but I didn't care. Something had taken over me and controlled everything I was and the only way to stop it was to bleed. Finally whatever it was that had taken control of me let me go and I sat there staring at the bloody mess that had become my arms. I covered them in towels and went to shower I needed to feel clean again. After I got out of the shower I was sent to see my counselor and she had me sent back to the emergency room. The emergency room sent me home and I thought all was good, but the next day they took me back and the doctor sent me back to Havenwyck. I was there for 14 days this time, and it was the longest 14 days of my life. I tried my hardest to convince them I was okay but all they did was give me 4 or 5 different medications to take every single day and send me back to my room. I refused to go to group or anything and that just made them keep me longer. I talked to a bunch of people while I was there and some of them even came to visit me. Pastor Jason (my youth pastor) even came to visit me and bring me a Bible. It meant the world to me that he cared enough to come see me when I was completely broken. I could not put on my mask anymore, the drugs they had me on made that too difficult, I was so tired all the time. I felt like they had me constantly sedated. I talked to PJ for a while and it helped a lot. I was out of there a few days later and I knew I would fall back into it. As soon as I went to school I fell back into hurting myself, never as bad as I did before, but enough to bleed. I got sick of it, bored with it. I no longer needed to know I was alive and could feel pain. but I couldn't stop. I needed to see myself bleed. And now here I am about to start my second year of college, and thinking back to a year ago when I was last in the hospital. I am 19 years old now and I am going to school to double major in youth and family ministry and psychology. I want to be a youth pastor, to help teens see God, to help them know that they are never alone. No one is ever alone. I have been clean for almost 13 days. The thing that makes this time different is that I have a support system. My name is Kiah Marie Zabel and I used to be a cutter.

Truth

Yes, Sometimes I get sad

Yes, Sometimes I wanna give up

And yes, sometimes I even wanna die

Sometimes the thoughts I have

Drive me crazy

Sometimes I think

I am going insane

Thinking thoughts

I’ve never thought

I could never

Go through with them

Hurting myself

That’s okay

I can learn

To be strong

But these thoughts

They need

To go away

I can feel myself

Slipping away

Farther into

The dark abyss

I am not strong

If I was

I wouldn’t feel

Like this

Please help me

Or better yet

Let me slip away

Into the void of darkness

I don’t want

To give up

But I want to die

I want this feeling

To go away

I feel like

Two different people

One person

Wants to die

To slip away

Into the darkness

The other

Knows life gets better

That it’s okay to live

The first one

The dark one

Is slowly

But surely

Getting stronger

This is what I feel

I know it’s wrong

But I don’t know

How to feel

Anything else

I’m sorry 

Fire, Blood, and Madness

The world will end this very night
In screams and flames and bloody fright
The devil will rear his ugly head
And everyone will wind up dead

Just past midnight I heard a noise
It started out soft, and got louder as it destroyed
The flames of hell bring their demons to play
Like a lion devouring its prey

I lay in bed with the covers to my nose
Shivering in the heat as the shadows impose
They grow larger as they contort
Making me scream, to them this is a sport

I close my eyes and wish them gone
Hoping I will make it till dawn
But when I dare to look again
I feel a sharp and shooting pain

The shadows have grown claws,

Closing them around my wrist
they feed on my blood,

Enjoying the taste

I scream out in fear
but no one can hear

the world is on fire
The situation is dire

One last swipe of the claws,

 This laceration made too deep
I fall from my bed, rousing from my sleep

The tears kiss my face in a steady stream

Sweat drips from my forehead,

My breath deep and frantic

I look at my wrist where the blood flows hard

And I know I will never make it

To see tomorrow’s dawn

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