Remnants

They are lots of remnants from when I was out of control ~2 years ago. Physical things like scars, the shorter hair (still obvious now, I had over a foot cut off to make it "easier to manage"), the pictures frames with their glass removed which I've never replaced.
Then there is a file in my email account. A file with over 6000 emails in it. All detailing stories where people had died brutally, been hurt as a result of another human being, and cases of life just not being kind to people. From literally dozens of websites, using the "Email this story" facilities. Some days there were maybe 100 emails sent. I was convinced I had caused these bad things to happen, so I needed to know where they were happening.
I thought about killing people, people got killed, it was my fault. The logic was probably flawed, but it was how it was. I thought about being a suicide bomber, then the next day maybe 50 people were killed in a busy market by a suicide bomber. I thought about stabbing people, then someone was stabbed to death. I thought about being a sniper, found ways to conceal a sniper in a car, people were shot. I thought about how floods could destroy huge areas of people's lives, and then floods happened.

This huge world of hurt was my fault. If I stopped thinking bad thoughts, maybe the bad things would stop happening. Or maybe, because I once thought bad thoughts, the world was going to always be bad however much good I tried to do.




Anyway, there is this folder on my computer with all these emails in it. Part of me knows I should delete it, for one thing it is probably making the email account (my work email account) much slower. But part of me, a little part of me still believes it. Still believes that I'll be found out for causing these bad things, or that I'll need to start collecting stories again, and having 6000 is a foundation for a possible "next time".

It is there. I never look at it though, not nowadays. But it is there. Reminding me of how things were. Quite frankly I'm scared to delete it. In a way, I believe if I delete it, bad stuff will happen in even greater proportions. It isn't positive to keep it, but getting rid of it seems too big a task.


The remnants of being bonkers are everywhere. I'm living in the town I've always lived in, in the house which tipped me over from "struggling" to "not coping" and this is just how it is. Can't help but think a new start elsewhere would be better. Then I remember how badly a new start went when I tried it last. One day...