sugarrush-77

I was drinking a can of Athletic (non-alc beer) the other day at a Friday happy hour with coworkers. I relinquished whatever control I had on my brain, and let my thoughts and worries go. Serotonin rushed into my bloodstream, and my head began to feel light.

My imagination cast a spell on my eyes, and I saw myself shoving my fingers up and down into my can of Athletic, and blood dripping from the cuts. The thought of me bleeding profusely brought me more joy than it should have. The fantasy continued when I got back to my apartment. I imagined myself dancing in my kitchen, dripping blood from various self-inflicted cuts on my arms and legs.

To be clear, although I've thought about self-harm throughout my life, and still have residual self-destructive thought processes ingrained in me from my early twenties / teenage years, I've never cut myself, and don't plan to. But sometimes it comes up in my daydreams, framed as a pleasurable experience, watching vivid droplets of red drip to the floor, and paint my body.

I have a host of fucked up thoughts in my head, and this is one of them. I've never told anyone about this one, and I wonder if I ever will. Sometimes, telling someone about a dark thought does more harm than good. Instead of pushing it back into the undercurrent of your subconscious, you surface it into the light as a formulated, and concrete thought that you share with another human being. If it becomes unbearable, I think I'll talk about it.

I have a host of unhealthy thoughts that populate the dark recesses of my subconscious, and I do my best to push them back into the darkness where they came from. But when an overwhelming amount of them surface, my mind becomes a prison. I'm trapped fighting with urges that torture me to act upon them. My mind is walking on a tightrope, and I've been lucky to not have fallen much so far, but how much longer will my luck last? Should I be more open about my thoughts? What would Jesus want me to do?