Self Pity

Cathartic piece. Me trying to put into words something that possibly occurs to quite a few people.

The sibilance of the glutinous carbohydrate self pity has a fill-you-up quality that keeps you motionless on the ground. Cradling your head and your stomach from alternatively being kicked in and then swelling outward, your whole body swelling up till it’s a heavy ball of dough on the ground. You stay in one position, believing you will never move again because of the viscous stillness that has overcome you, until you roll over into another and think the same thing. Self-pity is a good companion to self-loathing. Self-loathing, however, is not as sloth-like. It seethes inside you, bubbling over in little and large outbursts of hatred that if you directed against another, you would be seen as cruel. Because it is yourself you are being hateful to, you are to be pitied. You don’t resort to self-harm, because these spells are not a constant phenomenon, and you do not want to be reminded of them. Instead, you imagine the lacerations invisible knives make on your dough body. You drive an imaginary stake through your heart. The pain is less real, but the thing that gnaws away at your brain makes up for its lack of reality.

All this fades away the next next time you think you have never been happier, and forget the intensity of what you felt before. Until you come back to get yourself for ever thinking you could escape.

Author's Note

Any kind of feedback will be appreciated.