Deleted Things

Image credit: sn4tch Image courtesy of Stockvault.

Image credit: sn4tch
Image courtesy of Stockvault.

I’ve deleted a lot of things lately, which then reminds me of how I’m still not fully mentally settled. These reminders are like the echoes of my last bad episode, telling me how I tried deleting myself from the Internet. They’re like wounds that I won’t stop picking at. Just, there’s no satisfaction at seeing the blood flow.

Over the past couple of years, I’d written almost 800 posts. Even if I averaged 200 words a post, that’s 160,000 words. That’s about three novels. Three novels of…completely random stuff. Religion. Mental illness. Politics. Fiction. Other random crap. And now it’s gone forever, like it was never there. The worst thing is that I feel exhilarated and sad that I can do that. It might be the closest I’ll ever get to chopping off a limb and watching it regrow.

I deleted a lot of ways I kept in touch with people. That’s what hurts the most. A little voice inside says I can’t stop talking to people and expect them to know that I give a shit. Since they can’t know that, it shouldn’t get reciprocated. At that point, I feel needy. Being needy is weakness. It’s a disappointment.

It’s something to be cut out without mercy.

Although I know why I delete things – myself, people in my life, things I’ve done – it still doesn’t stop me from doing it. One day, I’ll even delete this. Not just because I want to silence myself when I’m out of my mind. I’ll do it because it’s what I’ll tell myself I deserve.

So many times I’ve fought with myself. I just feel so weary. I don’t want to delete anything in my life, but I want to delete everything and stop fighting.

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10 thoughts on “Deleted Things

  1. I can’t say I know how that feels. The closest I have come to deleting people out of my life was when I deleted my Facebook account or last week when I deleted one of my WhatsApp account. It felt good. So here to wish you well. Keep hanging in there but if you must delete this, go ahead and do it

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m talking about deleting it due to some unspecified future episode wherein I’ll just delete stuff.

      Really, when I’m not in an episode, I wish I hadn’t deleted anything. I wrote this in an effort to remind myself that I should try to step away from my computer when I get severely depressed.

      Like

  2. Oh…SB 😦

    I’ve done that with my journals. I always rip them up and regret it every time. I wish I would have kept them now and it always makes me feel like I lost a part of myself. Which I think is what you are saying…when you are depressed you want to lose a part of yourself. That’s the nature of the beast.

    I’m so sorry you lost all those posts, though. You know, I think anyone who knows you and understands depression will be able to understand why you’ve cut them out.

    Liked by 1 person

    • When I’m depressed, losing part of myself is the sign of a first step. From there, things can get pretty dark pretty quickly. Just getting near it is like a dark forest with monsters inside; I’m going to be nervous about it I suppose.

      It sucks that you lost your own journals. But if it’s a choice between ripping them up and not having you around to make more entries, I’d take ripping them up any day.

      Liked by 2 people

      • Coincidentally, I was just reading an intro to Franz Kafka’s “Metamorphosis” and just prior to his death from TB he asked that all his papers and manuscripts to his novels be destroyed. His executor ignored his order, assuming he was not thinking clearly. I’m convinced he was depressed because why else would he want his life’s work destroyed?

        Like a dark forest with monsters inside? That’s a good way to describe it. Please know that even though your posts have been deleted the impact of your words is still there.

        Liked by 1 person

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