542. The Demon Box

Over the years I have talked about my depression a bit.  The ways that I struggle.  The methods I use to overcome it.  The way that D/s has been helpful to me.  Etc.

I haven’t spoken much about the absolute darkness… mostly because I don’t really want to.  I have varying layers of damage.  Most them are manageable, especially those stemming from traumatic experiences that I have revealed over time.  There are a few that are not.  My best solution is to stay away from them.  Guard them.  Ensure that things don’t stir.

I keep a lot of the deepest damage locked away.  These are the looming specters that plague me during my darkest times.  I call the place that I bury them, the Demon Box.  Some demons manage to leak their way out of the box and plague my thoughts during my seasonal depression.  The box itself, remains relatively secure… most of the time.

A handful of things give me overwhelming levels of anxiety and pain.  In most cases these are the themes that have at some point, made me deeply despise my own existence.  They are the things that have made me deeply hate myself.  When I face them head-on and recognize the reality of it, I want to die.

My experiences with therapists have range mostly from poor to mediocre.  If they can’t understand me on a basic level, I do not assume they will understand what falls within my darkness.  The pragmatic reality is that if I spoke about these feelings with a mental health professional, I would probably end up being committed against my will and either medicated into oblivion or forced to lie about it if I wanted to get out.

Most people simply cannot understand what it is like to be functionally broken.  They don’t understand the precarious way in which you can balance your life to successfully compartmentalize the damage that would otherwise be completely crippling.  I’ve been doing this for so long that it is second nature to me.  My entire existence is built around preventing the Demon Box from seeing the light of day.  I know that once opened, it will destroy me.  I am not afraid to die, but it is also not an outcome that I wish to welcome.  I avoid being put in a position where choosing nothingness is the better outcome.  It is self-preservation.

Choosing to live and keep the demons buried is not a calm and rational exercise.  It is more like drowning, arms flailing, grasping for any place to hold on, trying your best not to drag someone else down with you.  When people are too close, there is collateral damage.

While guarding the box, I have hurt those who are dear to me.  I have destroyed things of deep meaning.  I have harmed myself.  I create a storm of self-preservation and I want to be left alone until it passes.  If people insist upon opening the box, I will lash out.  In doing so, I begin to accumulate red in the ledger.  In some cases it has been so great that it has spelled the end.

My pursuit to live will outweigh the call of D/s, even if my actions will make me hate myself and want to die later on.

If I had a way to fix this, I would have already fixed it long ago.  The best I can do is avoid it, especially the things that will make it worse.  I am aware this makes me “lesser” in all ways.  I know that I will end up feeling like shit by choosing that I would rather be alive tomorrow and sad than reach the point of no return and explode.  This is my burden to bear.

What is most difficult for me is when I try to explain this and find that the push back sends me deeper and deeper into the corner… and ready to explode.

14 thoughts on “542. The Demon Box

  1. You almost destroyed something of great meaning within the last 24 hours. But you didn’t. Because I care too much to allow it to be destroyed.

    You failed me badly and you know it. But you are allowed to fail. It will take time and work to repair the damage; we will get there, and I am hopeful it will make us stronger for the journey.

    Every last one of us is fallible. Everyone stumbles. Everyone hurts those they care about.

    When you wake up tomorrow, our relationship will still be there.

    When you are ready, I will accept the apology that I know is coming. I will take the strap to you and together we will wipe the slate clean. I will hold you while you cry. I will give you ice cream with Rice Krispies, just the way you like it. Life will go on.

    Because you are valuable and cared for, even on your very worst day.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. This is so brutally honest, and I absolutely applaud the way in which you have expressed such painful thoughts. It is not easy at all to keep the box closed: it takes huge amounts of energy and effort. And so, it is difficult to find energy to spare for others, hence the experience of going into the “red in the ledger” , as you so perfectly put it. I know I have fallen prey to this myself, and damaged relationships that were precious to me, but when all your energy is focused on keeping the box closed, it is hard. My empathy and warm thoughts are with you, Furcissy. It is a very difficult battle, and I wish you all the strength in the world 🌷

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you. It’s frustrating when I tumble, because a part of me is aware that I will regret it while it is happening. Sometimes surviving the darkness takes priority, but I am never proud of it after it happens. Take care.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh fur, you may feel less than, but you most definitely are not. You have to do the things that keep you breathing and coping. Yes people do get hurt along the way, but the ones that sit with you while you fumble through the darkness will still be sitting there waiting for you to emerge again. Those that mark the red in your ledger don’t/won’t want to understand the demon box. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows kiddo, but you’ve got this. Take the time, take care of yourself, you have us still here waiting for you.

    Liked by 2 people

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