The tasks my psychologist gives me

  1. Write about the relationship between you and your mom
  2. Write about the relationship between you and your dad
  3. Write about the relationship between your mom and your dad

So somehow the way I write about my parents tells a lot about our relationship. I write about us and then we speak about them and us, and then we get somewhere, I hope.

This is as far as I have come on the third one:
I think mom and dad are kissing in secret. Not because it’s something they should be hiding, but because I’ve never seen them kiss, and still I’m sure they do.



Who am I?

So …. I am so tired. I don’t know what to say. What do I say? I don’t know how to express myself. How do I let all this pain shine on through?

I wish I was better, faster, stronger.

Who am I?

I am so scared!!!!


Thanks for all the fish

I’m home on leave from the hospital. 2 hours to spend with my parents.

When I talked with my psychologist today he made me promise not to use this time at home to die. Funny story, that was what I was planning, and still am planning. I swore I wouldn’t be up to no good, but maybe once I won’t be good as my word.

It just hurts so bad.

I was looking for something more to write, but then I found I didn’t have to, what I just wrote said it all.

It just hurts so bad.

I wish you all the best, keep fighting, stay strong. ♥

I’m in jail

I didn’t do anything illegal, all the same I’m here, in jail. Because seriously: that’s what this is. Locked ward = jail.

Someone is watching my every step.

Get me out of here! Please!

How do you die on locked ward?

… Obviously you don’t.

I was getting real desperate and I figured the only way left was dehydration. Let me tell you: there’s nothing easy about dehydration. I mean, it’s the simplest thing, just don’t drink or eat! BUT, that’s hard!

I lasted 43 hours, almost 2 days and nights. But the staff told me I wouldn’t manage to die of it anyways because once I passed out they would give me intravenous liquid. I still kept on strong, but finally I just couldn’t do it anymore. The uncomfortableness and the thirst and the pain was unbearable.

What do I do now? What do I do. I’ve never been this low. So many times I’ve thought “It can’t get worse than this” and so many times it has. But this time, seriously, it can’t get worse than this!

Tomorrow I’m getting electric shock through my brain. I’m scared.