There was so much pain. 

My heart. My mind. My body. My soul. 

I remember feeling as though the cold steel of a blade had entered my chest. 

Then I opened my mouth

and screamed

It was bone chilling, every ounce of pain was ripped from my body through my throat. It was a violent scream, a scream that made the hairs on my body electrify and stand up. Raggedly cutting through the air as a serrated knife would cut through fabric. It was a scream of anger and desperation to feel anything but pain. It was a scream that resembled that of an injured animal, a deep guttural noise that made my head spin. 

The noise in the air didn't even register in my mind as my own until I felt arms around me. Strong arms. Stable arms. Arms that tried in vain to hold my shattered self together. I heard whispers of promises that I would be okay. But I wasn't. I was so far past okay that the idea that I could ever feel anything but this raw, bloody scream seemed pathetic. A scream that painted a picture of my heart like carcasses impaled on metal hooks. The agony in the carnage left behind from a broken will to continue dripped off my tongue like bitter honey. 

The longer I screamed the stronger it got. 

The scream told a story. The story of the slaughter of my being, my mental state, everything I thought I was. The story of a person who was in internal torment, constantly running to avoid being consumed by suffering. The story of a person who felt truly alone in their head, in their house, in their disease. I remember barely feeling my heart throbbing in my chest because all I could feel was the scream.  I remember thinking I was dying. I remember hoping I was dying. I remember tears slipping down my cheeks and hitting the floor as the scream made my body shake. I remember the chills going down my spine turning to heat. I remember every second of that scream.  

I was on fire.

Flames licked up my body, teasing my soul to its breaking point with white hot touch. The scream turned the air around us to hellfire; I was weak, my defenseless mind succumbing to the inferno that raged. I gave into the flames, embracing the pain and letting my heart melt to my skin and my skin melt to my bones. The burning was comforting, a sensation that I would never wish on another but a sensation I deserved, I needed, I craved. 

It was gone before I could process what was happening. 

My scream left. 

My lungs began to deflate as my air flow became staccato. The air leaving my breath turned from powerful and uncontrollable to ragged and subdued.  I clawed at the air, frantically trying to grip my scream in my hands. My raw, bloody, horrifying scream. I was desperate. Sobs choked out from my throat. It was too quick, too soon, a high I never wanted to end. A high I would do anything to grasp again. 

Then my body’s strength depleted. I stopped fighting. The arms holding me, the strong arms, the stable arms, held me tightly. I let the whispers of promises lull me into a sense of serenity. 

I sought comfort in the darkness, the things normal people would find terrifying and unhealthy. I found comfort in the darkness, the things that were misunderstood and unappreciated. I gave them love and a place in my mind, my soul, my body, my heart. 

I longed for it

The scream

My raw, bloody, beautiful scream