Quick fix

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A girl going through a hard time, trying to deal with everying dosen't work out in the healthiest way...

Submitted: February 28, 2013

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Submitted: February 28, 2013



A Quick Look Into the Mind of Someone Who Tried A Quick Fix


Every time something hurts I search for a solution, that's what life has become, hasn't it? A series of quick solutions – you don't like your hair color? Bleach it, you don't like your eye color? Get contacts, you're stomach hurts? Take Pepto-Bismol, your head hurts? Take Advil… Same goes for your bigger life choices I suppose. Now I am a great supporter of taking your life in your hands, making your own decisions – but what if that isn't enough?

What I'm truly asking is what happens when you feel you've exhausted every outlet – you wrote about it, you talked about it, you stayed up for hours thinking about it, hearing songs about it, but nothing happens! What is left for you to do???…

Sometimes people need actions, not just thoughts. Getting in touch with my feelings wasn't the problem, rather conquering them was.

It was all too much, so I decided to try it, I had tried it once before, not for real, just wanting to know what it feels like, why people do it – a type of morbid curiosity I suppose. I couldn't really do it though, maybe it wasn't enough. Maybe it isn't enough to think, talk, imagine, pretend… Maybe what I was truly lacking was some real tragedy, some real problems that urge me, push me, force me toward real solutions.

I was scared of going all the way but this, this was like dipping your toes in – not diving off the deep end but no longer lounging on the shore.

The first time I tried it with scissors, it was stupid really, such an obvious cop-out before I even began. The blade fogged up from my breath, I was hunched over it, it was too intense. I got up, shook myself off, put on the radio… though I really didn't hear what was playing, maybe it didn't turn on at all…

Later I found out it was easy, once I finally got down to it. Before I had been scared but now, now what was there left to be scared of? My life had fallen apart. I know it sounds melodramatic but truly, my family shattered and my friends scattered.

Funny how I was always so afraid of being alone while all my life I was over burdened with friends and family. Now I have neither, it seems, and I'm sure most of it is be my doing.


What a wonderful feeling – I don't care anymore! I don't care whose to blame, I don't care what the future holds, I don't ask "why?" over and over in my head. I just don't care.

I'm on the floor, I don't know how or why, and I don't care!

I have no one to call and I don't care!

I think I may have cut too deep and I don't care! I like not caring... I always thought that I need to be more caring - do more volunteer work, be more empathetic… but I had it all wrong – I was lackin in apathy, not empathy.

I wonder… if I keep cutting, will I keep not caring?

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