To drown

_{Suicide mention, among other things.}

The most disgusting thing is I believed.

I talked about my current situation yesterday. About the anxiety, the medication, the thing that now has a name and meaning.
It made me think, the talking, the chattering that was not meant to be. It made me go back in time and see the pictures I made in that period, in that time where my mental suicide would mean killing my oldest character so he wouldn't be touched anymore. He would be free. The thought seems absurd now but I can still recall the feeling of desperation... which turned into numbness.

12.4.2011. The last picture made by mouse, Wacom Bamboo Pen looming in my mind, asking to be bought, that demon I had always feared. I don't know what made my buy it but I'm glad I did.
That day I drew lines that butchered, that killed, that made something so very dear to die for years.

If you can and if you would, imagine having a character made of your flesh, by your hands. Now imagine not drawing them, not even talking about them that much, for years.
It might not be a big deal, it might be.

12.4.2011 I drew a picture that killed.
All because of the talking, the whispering that had been started in the fall 2010. People talked, people laughed, and I believed. And I broke.

The most disgusting thing is I believed.

Four years later I now drew new lines of the killing act, played it all over again, made me think and made me think hard.
They made me feel bad of drawing these two.
Someone else choked me with that feeling, that thought and made me think it was me all along, me to blame.

The most disgusting thing is I believed.
And the saddest thing is I swallowed this and bowed my head for all these years, I let myself go down and down until there was nothing more. I let myself break because of those words that have already being forgotten but not forgiven, because forgiveness is not something you can just have.

Last year I drew Redamancy, a picture named in my gallery, and I was afraid.
I was afraid of something I never should be afraid of.

Never again.
And this will be the manifesto of the killing act that I can only now forget.

_{Agalloch - To Drown
Najimael © Deenath
Niem © Khasuri, 6/2015}