effy
When you're in the loony bin, it's hard to work out whether you actually fit in or not. Who's the craziest, who's the sanest? Do I actually want to be accepted by these people, or should I fear them – after all, they're like me, and I'm like them. We look out for each other in here, even if it's not right; helping someone avoid there meals, stuff like that. Some days, most days really, it's like a black cloud is engulfing my body, taking my mind captive and making me suffer the utmost worst pain – yet it's only in my mind. Then, there are the ever so rare days when I can breathe, when I can just be happy - almost. Even then, 'happy' seems too surreal, like sadness should be all I know, because the sorrow is all too familiar and I crave every second of its hellish torture. Crazy, to desire pain – but it's what I know. Imagine it like this: the black cloud is your comfort zone, you know it inside out and it knows you so well, whereas the clear skies, for me well, that's right out of the comfort zone – I don't know it well, and it fears me. Try living outside your comfort zone, what's that like? It's wrong, it's horrible, you feel like you don't belong – but I belong here, in the dark, where nobody can see me and I can suffer alone.
Freddy made me crazy, he made the voices come back and I thought I had being doing so well. Fuck Freddy, fuck him and his perfectness and making me crazy. Honestly, I think its horse shit. The people you love shouldn't make you go crazy; but he did. Now I'm here and seeing Dr. Foster every now and again. I think he's making me better, but I'm not sure. I'm not sure I want him to help me yet either. I don't know how to live without the darkness within. It is a part of me, and I don't think I'm strong enough to let it go.
Often I think back to when I tried to kill myself that day. I remember it all too vividly, and I feel adrenaline pumping through me just reliving it in my mind. I remember the tingling numbness spreading through my body as we stood in the doorway looking at Freddy and his gramps. I remember excusing myself to go to the bathroom and feeling that rush of adrenaline. The walk to the cubicle felt like the longest walk I've ever walked. I shut the door and I pulled out the knife I had sneaked into my pocket when Katie was grabbing herself a drink. Taking a deep breath I dropped to the floor and slouched against the cabinet. My body wracked with sobs, yet I felt nothing inside – in that moment I was nothing. I thought of everything all at once, and nothing at all. My mind overflowed and I just wanted to scream. I dragged the knife as hard and deep as I could across my wrist without hesitation.
I waited to bleed out, I really did. I came to peace with dying in that moment; I tried to block out everything and await my death. My vision was blurry from my tear filled eyes and the loss of blood. I heard Freddy coming through my foggy thoughts and wanted to yell, wanted to scream at him to stop, to not save me. But there was no words spoken, no fighting against him as he put pressure on the wound and screamed for help. I was too weak, I am too weak. I just let him save me, when I just wanted to be gone. I wanted to be nothing.