I feel as though if I were to stick my hand into the fireplace, nothing would happen. In a sense, I have already done so. The stove isn't as good as real fire, but it will have to do. As a matter of fact, it's not even hot. It's almost as if instead of heat, I feel cold. I can't cry anymore, there is nothing left.
I look into the fireplace constantly, just trying to see some form of light. All I can see is blackness. Nothing I look at gives any form of light to me, not the sun, the moon, the stars, the fire, or even the lights illuminating my flat. There is nothing, just empty darkness.
I can't even begin to understand how or why I feel this way. It just started to happen and I didn't know how to respond, so I ignored it. I guess I just believed it would go away, like most of my emotions do. It didn't, it feels worse than ever. My hand over that stove gives me my only sense of release. I am not stupid enough to place my hand directly on it, it is far too noticeable. I wave my hand over the top and let the burning sensation sink in. I'll only place my skin directly on the stove when my days are exceptionally dreadful. When I do, I always use my wrist instead of my hand so I know I can hide it. Even still, I feel like my skin isn't even peeling.
I want to overcome this. I want fire to represent light once again and not darkness. There is no part of me that knows where to start though. I can't get through one day without hurting myself somehow and if I suddenly stop, who knows what I might do? I really do want to change, but I have no idea how it could possibly happen.
None of them will listen to my point of view on anything, it's a wonder I put up with them at all. They all turn against me every chance they get, especially Mycroft. I don't know if I will ever forgive him. He has only made everything worse than before. Not a day goes by where I don't think about what he has done. John just sees everything I do as cruel and unkind. Maybe it is, but that is just how I am. It's what I have become.
They don't know what it's like to live with this, to have something like this in your mind for years on end with no means of escape besides causing yourself physical and emotional harm. I have never sought help because I already know that there is no point, I am well beyond the point of a lost cause. Besides, I refuse to be seen as weak.
Other than Mycroft, no one among my peers knows what's been going on. I plan to keep it that way. No one, not Lestrade, Sally, Anderson, not even John knows what is going on inside of my head. They're all so thick, aren't they? I don't blame them.
I don't want them to know, anyway. They will only see me as weak and I need to maintain my image of being better than all of them. Mycroft is smart enough not to mention it to them; thankfully he respects me enough to give me that favor. They can never know, I will never be able to see any of them again.
Nevertheless, they are all involved now. They all unintentionally influence my mood for the day, most of the time it ends up poorly. Any case I am on usually distracts me long enough until something happens that sends everything crashing down. They are caught in the middle and I am approaching the point of no return.
Despite everything, one thing is clear. I will overcome.