[trigger warning for self harm]
There have been many times in my life where I have felt negative emotions intensely.
This is one of those times. Instead of me trying to paint you a picture of the people and events that led to this point, let’s talk about these crappy feelings in general terms.
Usually, my anger results from dissatisfaction with myself or something so silly and trivial blown way out of proportion. That is the ultimate price I pay for being ‘sensitive’, ‘an idealist’ and forever ‘romanticising life’. These labels all hint at, but not quite explain, the intensity I put into merely existing.
You understand me, right? In fact, you’re a little bit like me, I’m sure. After all, there’s a little bit of crazy within the best of us. We are not spectators of life – we are life and life consists of more than new beginnings and happy endings.
The critics (which are oftentimes from within) will tell us that we’re being overdramatic, illogical and crazy – this isn’t a situation where I’d tell you to ignore them, instead, I wonder if maybe they’re right.
Just like how horror movies aren’t scary if you don’t imagine yourself in the characters’ shoes, maybe life will be easier if we took a more objective standpoint every so often…if we just paused for a moment and breathed out, pushed away.
When I was a lot younger, I just cried and cried when I felt negative emotions. Then as I grew up, I resorted to punching walls; I liked that sting that blossoms on your knuckles upon impact that fades out into a low hum of pain. Eventually, due to morbid curiosity – it was inevitable really – I experimented with a more stereotypical version of self harm.
p.s. this is when you click away if you don’t want to see imagery of self harm or romanticisation of the practise.