Why can I only write when my self-esteem is dangerously low and my will to live is basically gone?
This is just a abstract piece I wrote in English class today.
Warning:
-implied suicide
Here’s the transcription of my messy ass writing:
You know how sometimes you hear ringing in your ears, but play it off as nothing? Well I also hear the ringing. I noticed something strange after I heard it the third time in a row. It’s a warning bell. Your body doesn’t know how to communicate with itself. The ringing is alarm bells going off. They’re meant to warn you of coming Sanger. What I didn’t know was that every danger is different. Some people get warned of a physical danger; a missing step on a staircase; a speeding car about to hit you; a dog that’s ready to chase you around the block just for the sausages in your bag. Others get warned of emotional danger; the saddest part of a movie, the anger of betrayal; the jealousy of grades. I got a warning for mental danger. When my thoughts got darker, when my breathing got shallower; when my body got weaker. They warned me that I was spiraling, that it was going to get bad. They cried out in an attempt to be heard, they cried out for help. I didn’t notice until it was too late. The bells were the loudest that last fateful day. I ignored them and kept going. In those last moments, I realized that the bells were trying to keep me safe. They weren’t meant to harm me, only to save me from myself. I caution everyone, find out what dangers your bells protect you from. Figure out what they mean and how to help yourself. And above all else, I beg, don’t ignore your bells. They can save your life if you let them.
