I couldn’t seem to let go of the rage that was still swimming through me even weeks after my blow up. I had no real reason at this point to feel so angry but that wasn’t abnormal for me; rage without reason.

I had faced this problem so many times before but never really had a reason to kept it inside. Then the recipients of my anger were my family members and peers. Now I couldn’t do that my family wasn’t close enough and well lashing out at my peers would do more harm than I could deal with.

So with that being that I decided to do what I do best and take it out on myself. I was better at it anyway and it would cause fewer problems for me since I could hide what I was doing.

I knew I could get my hands on simple things, paperclips, staples things like that but I needed something more. I was able to get a shaving razor from one of the girls that had snuck some in from a visit, she just gave it to me no questions asked. All that was said was “If you get caught with it it’s on you leave me out of it” I agreed and went on my way.

I waited until Night staff arrived as she didn’t bother to check on us as often as she probably should have so I knew I would have time to dismantle the razor and hide the evidence.

Taking a disposable razor apart is a pain in the ass and its not something you can rush. One false move and you now have a finger or thumb sliced wide open and bleeding everywhere. That definitely wasn’t something I needed to deal with at this point.

Getting caught meant suicide watch, which meant you either went to the alternative living unit which is basically a bunch of rooms with beds and nothing else and someone sits outside the door all day; or someone followed you around constantly until they were sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

As someone who prefers to be left alone, I wanted no part of any of that. So I carefully went about my business got rid of the pieces that needed to be gone and hid the rest. I laid down that night a little calmer knowing it was there when I needed it.

“Deep into that darkness peering long, stood there wondering fearing” doubting.
Edgar Allan Poe