Through Fire Songtext
von Noija

At the bottom of the sea is where I meet my monsters
And I would fight my monsters
And the more I fought, the bigger they got
Everything that′s inside of me that I'm fighting with
Whether it′s somebody that said something horrible
Or a negative judgement of myself, that's the monster

The opposite of depression is not happiness, but vitality
And it was vitality that seemed to seep away from me in that moment
Everything there was to do seemed like too much work
I tell myself еveryday I'm a failure
I′m not worthy of love and happinеss
I should just leave so everyone′s lives would be easier

It's a sensation of being afraid all the time
But not even knowing what it is you′re afraid of
And it was at that point that I began to think
That it was just too painful to be alive


I used to get anonymous messages from someone
Who would call me truly hurtful things
And would try to convince me to kill myself
For a while I tried to

You don't think in depression that you′ve put on a grey veil
And are seeing the world through the haze of a bad mood
You think that the veil has been taken away
The veil of happiness, and that now you're seeing truly

My thoughts leading up to cutting had been
"You are truly shitty, you don′t deserve to be here
You deserve to have these marks on your body
Everything that's happened in your past, that is all your fault
Everything is your fault"
And then when I do cut
Then for about five to ten minutes
I'm just sitting there and it is quiet in my brain

If I knew then what I know now, well
It probably wouldn′t have changed very much
And it probably wouldn′t have changed very much because
Sometimes it doesn't matter what you know
What you feel just takes over


And there′s so many ways like this
That our perception becomes limited
In fact, our perception is its limits
And these limits, they're created by our biology
By our psycology, by our society
These are the factors which create that bubble which surrounds us
That is our perceptual field, our world as we know it

The only thing that I could think was
"You′re not good enough, you're not smart enough, you′re not enough"
And it didn't matter if I was
Because these were the constricted limits of my perception

So when I held that hated chefs knife in my hand
And I raised it to my throat, and I pressed it there
And I felt the blood begin trickle down my hand
The only thing I could think in that moment
Nobody would even know you're gone