Good medicine. 

Last night was quite eventful. 

I was cutting to stop the voices as per usual, but after 10 minutes they hadn’t gone away. Then 15 minutes, then 20 minutes. I ended up in the bathroom, still cutting, but washing off the blood running down my arm so I could see where I hadn’t cut yet. The voices were only getting louder. I was so scared that I wasn’t going to stop that I went and woke my mom up. 

A 20 year old needing her mommy to help her, pathetic? Maybe. 

In tears, I told her I couldn’t stop because the voices were still screaming in my ear. She calmly took me to the kitchen and helped bandage me up. Very badly, but, hey, she was tired. 

After bandaging me up with a gauze pad and several insufficient band-aids, we watched Glee until 2:30 in the morning. That was nice. 

Now I’m going to lunch with my mom and step-dad. Hey, it’s free food. WOOHOO. 


Medicated Perfection. 


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23 years old. Student teacher. Theatre enthusiast. Music lover. Medication taker. Depressed. Bad at eating.

One thought on “Good medicine. ”

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