It was already Monday and I had to go back to work because I just couldn’t wait to start working to overcome my depression. I had to get busy but first I needed to look happy, to wear a smile on my face even if it was plain deceit. Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of my bed and headed to the bathroom. While in the shower, I kept thinking of ways to come alive; tears and screams did not come. I was filled with darkness and was desperately in need of fighting myself through this darkness that eclipsed my heart. The ceiling was too high for my reach, else I would have punched it because I felt the need to hit an object in order to let go of my heavy heart.
Some minutes later, I noticed some drops of blood on the floor, my right fist was heavy and I couldn’t lift my hand. It was ice cold and I felt a rush of pain piercing my heart. I couldn’t tell what really happened but I felt a bit relieved from my depression and rushed inside to get my first aid kit to clean up my messed up knuckles. It was clear I was already running late, so I hurried up and applied some band aid to cover the surface.
The pain in my wrist redirected that which I was feeling in my heart; I was somehow relieved. I cannot explain what really happened in the bathroom at that moment but whatever it is that happened brought some kind of relief to my heart. It was as if a heavy blind was lifted off my eyes. I left the drop of blood on the wall and floor because I had to hurry to work. My hand felt sore, my head felt empty, and my heart felt relieved.
It felt like I was a bit alive. At work, I laughed at jokes and made jokes too. There wasn’t a need for me to explain about my hand since no one asked. Most of the time everybody is just all about work. All day at the office I kept trying to remember what really happened and how I got the bruised knuckles but I kept getting nothing. Days passed and my hand was good again.
A Couple of Weeks Later
I was moved to desk duties, no more 9-12 hours of work. This meant that I was going to be less busy.l with no field activity or extra shifts. Each day after work, I went home and never left the house till the next morning. I dreaded weekends a lot since I had to be home alone for 2 days and felt reluctant to go for games or to the gym. This was when I began to feel my depression more.
This very morning, I did not have any sleep at night, and could feel absolutely nothing. I went into the bathroom to at least shower. I spotted the dried blood on the wall. The thought of what it will take to produce such an epic moment that led to the drop of blood on that wall flashed through my mind. I remembered the relief I felt after the drop of that blood and was tempted to hit the wall again. But this time, I felt the pain rushing through my heart; I couldn’t risk it.
I became desperate to feel some pain and ran my eyes through the bathroom for an easier way. Then, I spotted the edge of the mirror which stood by the bathroom wall, and ran my fingers through the edges to feel the sharpness. I felt satisfaction on finding out how sharp the edges were. I placed my wrist carefully on the edge while pressing it down and dragged my hand slowly towards my body. I was careful though not to slit my vein. The pain was sharp and I held unto my wrist as I watched the droplets of blood rushing through my fingers.
This time, the pain was not as bad as the knuckles but at least I felt relieved. I waited out for a while but the bleeding wasn’t stopping; which made me grab my first aid kit. Thereafter, I sat on the toilet seat while I administered first aid to my slit wrist. I felt good all day because the pain did not bother me ; rather it relieved me. Uninformed me felt I just discovered a new way to get rid of my depression once again. This went on and on. It wasn’t consistent at first because it took weeks or months before such an urge came up in my mind. Before long, I had spent two years covering my hands with bruises and cuts.
With time I learned how to hide my cuts perfectly well by wearing long sleeves and never folding my uniform. I didn’t want any questions or suspicions. It got so bad that one day when I refused to fold my sleeves as a senior officer commanded, I was locked in the guard room for 5 hours. By early 2019, I almost appeared to work every week with band aid in my wrist or fingers. My colleague once called me ‘OC Clumsy’ one time he saw me with a band aid on my wrist. With time, I learned to hide them even better. Soon, I graduated from cutting just my wrist, to cutting my shoulders, thigh, and back. I stopped using the mirror edge but blades and other sharp objects I could find around.
By mid-2019;
I moved back to deployments and started working 9-12 hours again. Due to getting busy and staying less at home, things began to improve. I always came home exhausted and worn out, so, my depression hardly hit me. Most days I sleep off just as I was having the last spoon from my plate of food. Though the depression did not disappear, my coping mechanism had always been getting busy. Getting back to work as before helped me a lot through the last quarter of 2019 and early 2020. Things were almost good though the feelings lingered somewhere inside of me, then 2020 happened.
- By JOY