Jesus wept (again). 

The last time I made a post I was happy.

Now I’m not. The voices in my head have gotten stronger and have added a new method of torture. They can now put images in my head. For example, I was downstairs and saw my sister on the computer. Not something out of the ordinary…then BAM. All I could see in my head was me strangling her. That’s not something I’d ever want to do to my sister. That’s something I can never unsee.

And that scares me.

Tonight all I can see is me slitting my wrists. It’s horrible. It’s making it impossible to sleep.

These are the days when I want to just be done with all of this.

With everything.

 

Sincerely,

Medicated Perfection.

wrist slit gif

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. 

Sincerely,

Medicated Perfection. 

HE is able to help those who are being tempted…right?

I have these nights where the voices won’t leave me alone. Nights where I cut until they let me stop. Tonight, they made me cut for 20 minutes. The only reason they let me stop is because I ran out of room on my wrist. 

They get angry when I try to get help or others try to help me. So asking for help is too hard. They get louder and louder until I can’t separate my thoughts from them. 

I don’t want to die. But I do. I really do. 

But I want to get married and have kids. I want to have a career. I want to see my baby’s first steps, their first tooth, their first day of school, and their graduation. 

I want so many things. But right now it doesn’t seem that I’ll be able to get them because I won’t make it through this alive. 

I guess I will just go to sleep and then wake up and do it all over again. I hate this. 

Goodnight. 

Sincerely, 

Medicated Perfection. 

For they are like the angels

We know full well there’s just time
So is it wrong to toss this line?
If your heart was full of love
Could you give it up?

‘Cause what about, what about angels?They will come, they will go, make us special

Don’t give me up
Don’t give…
Me up


How unfair, it’s just our love
Found something real that’s out of touch
But if you’d searched the whole wide world
Would you dare to let it go?



‘Cause what about, what about angels?They will come, they will go, make us special

Don’t give me up
Don’t give…
Me up



‘Cause what about, what about angels?They will come, they will go, make us special

It’s not about not about angels
 

ANGELS

Sincerely, 

Medicated Perfection.

Who hath wounds without cause?

People have been asking me why I’m depressed. I could list out all of the reason, but that would take awhile…I will try anyway. 

When I was 6 years-old I was molested repeatedly by my “best friend”. His name was Jake (I think). He made me touch and put my mouth on his privates for months. One day I told a friend nonchalantly, then she told her mom who told my told my mom. Then the next thing I know we are in a different neighborhood where I have no friends.

During my freshmen year of high school, I had my first kiss with a boy named Sam (we will call him Sam). My friend Andie (we will call her Andie) was secretly in love with Sam so she turned all of our friends against me. I tried to remain under the radar because of all of this drama during my freshmen and sophomore years of high school.  

On a cruise when I was 16, I lost my virginity to a guy in the ship. I cried. He was older. He also had a girlfriend. I didn’t know this encounter would change everything.

By the time I came back to the States, something had shut down inside me. I didn’t care who was inside me.

During my junior year, my friend Brent (fake name) killed himself by hanging himself in his closet. The summer before my senior year, my friend Kevin (fake name) killed himself also by hanging himself. I was in love with him. He was beautiful. I wish he could’ve known how much I cared about him before he did that to himself. 

By then I was officially off the rails. I wanted nothing to do with “old-fashioned courtship”. I just wanted to feel affection from men. Which I got through sex. Lots and lots of sex. 

Now that I am back home and out of school, I can say that I have had at least over 20 sex partners. I feel dirty. I feel disgusting. I want nothing but to slit my wrists and receive my dues as the true slut I am. 

That is all I have to say. I’m sorry.

Sincerely, 

Medicated Perfection.