Your Raspberry Lips

a warped simplicity

do i want to get better? the answer should be simple, so why isn't it? the first word that comes to mind is yes. but the more i ponder, the more warped that answer becomes. if i want to get better, why am i self sabotaging myself? why do i continue to isolate myself and use cutting as a coping skill? why do i refuse my medications and deny my condition? why am i letting myself drown in my emotions instead of using logic to get out of my mindset? i am fully capable of pulling myself out of my chaotic loop of suicide attempts. i know how to improve my mood. what's stopping me? why aren't i taking the steps to improve my mental health? why do i disregard every single bit of advice people give me? why do i discard my loved ones' concerns and support? why am i knowingly allowing myself to ruin my future? i say i want to get better. i say i'm ready to make progress. i want to be, but i'm not. deep down, i think part of me is scared. the absence of hope and happiness, of love and compassion in my heart has gone on for so long that i barely notice it anymore. i've fallen into a false comfort within my chaotic thoughts. i'm so used to feeling alone and unwanted that the thought of anything else is petrifying. what happens when i try? what happens when i try and it doesn't work? i think there's something calming about knowing i could get better if i wanted to. but... what if that's not the case? what if i couldn't? then what? do i give up? do i pull the trigger? take the pills? utilize the blades? do i give in to all of my unreasonable temptations? if there's no hope for my recovery, why stay? i want to get better, but i'm scared. i'm just not ready to take that leap of faith that i'm strong enough to recover. i'm not ready to fail. i'm not ready to die.