Scared & Scarred

A legend in the rock-n-roll genre, Rod Stewart, once made a song Scarred and Scared. The tone of that track is just as much homogeneous as the title is to this writing. Almost everyone around me claimed that they never even heard of this song.

I'm going down to the engine shed
Put a gun up to my head
Blow myself into the promised land
We call it scarred and scared

These writings are the little space bubbles I created in the Internetsphere. If I could put my brain dump the voices in my head into writing, it would occasionally be gruesome & graphic. Uncomfortable graphic. I'm not a good writer, not even a decent one. For some reason, I'm exceptionally bad at adding layers of imaginative fabrications to my thoughts or writings. Hence, whenever I try to express or translate my thoughts, it usually becomes a tough read. It's better not to peek through the lens I use to view life and all it has to offer if you've never been wronged by people, if you're not haunted by memories & you don't know how it feels to experience a constant battle between your past self & the demon that they've forced your inner self to become.

I think my mind is a tricky maze to navigate. My mind is assumably not a happy place to be, not for myself, not for anyone by themselves, alone.

This place right here, the skull between my ears. This is a bad neighborhood. I should not be in there alone.

It's hard to find a group of people with whom you can get real, feel safe, be vulnerable and open up. It gets harder when you pluck up your courage and put your mental muscles to attempt opening up, only to get kicked in your guts. The icing on the cake is when you're somewhat successful in your career or doing decent in your professional life. That paints a very contradictory notion of you to quite a few people around that you have no reason to feel mentally down.

Not everyone is born assertive. The thing about being a pushover is you know you can be manipulated quite easily and still can not really do much about it. So your last (read, only) resort or defense becomes closing the mental door to conversations from anyone who may seem manipulative. And that leads you to a closed form of life, with little to no positive conversations or opportunities.

Merriam-Webster defines self-harm as the act of purposely hurting oneself (as by cutting or burning the skin) as an emotional coping mechanism. Coping involves mechanism, chopping involves skill. There are quite a few phases, or as I like to call them, chapters, you need to walk through from reaching the chopping stage of coping. I once attempted to document each chapter and even named them with cluelessly rhyming words as such:

Chapter 01 Concerning Confusions/Agitation
Chapter 02: Casual Conversations/Persuasion
Chapter 03: Causes, Caution & Cutlery/Execution
Chapter 04: Confronting Consequences
Chapter 05: Comforting Conclusion

I view these chapters as emotional avenues that I navigated as an observer. In physics, a timescape is defined as a function of time that is dependent on the position of the observer. Similar to time, life is also complicated as fuck. And so are the relationships we create with the faces we meet along the way. Our life events, whatever happens to us, hardly approve or involve any logical conscious or approved methodologies of reasoning, hence they mostly lead to an uncertain & ambiguous conclusion.

If you're still reading this brain dump, don't worry. Next time you meet a friend of yours, who may be experiencing an inescapable downward spiral of insomnia-fueled dissociative episodes that have obliterated their ability to function like me, just throw some more mental health jargon to them and don't let them kill your vibe! After reading this, if you want to offer me, or anyone like me, any of the following pieces of advice: