I hate when people say my bipolar disorder is a part of me.

It isn't.

I know what "me" feels like and these thoughts and feelings and sensations are none of mine.

It's an invasion.

A violation.

A possession.

Ants that skitter along my nerves.

Electricity constantly running through my brain.

Cancer that spreads through my insides and rots everything that's me.

Leaves me wanting to rip my skin off and strip my muscles from my bones.

Dig out my organs and throw them away.

Cleanse it all until there's only me again.

Spiraling again

And I need a break

But I hate that feeling that I get when I’m absent from stuff

That left out feeling

Even though it was me that walked away

I just want people to come find me

Come find me 

I want to be high

To find that place inside me where all that real stuff is

That stuff that’s so difficult to find when I’m not outside myself

I always feel so detached from myself

And I hate it

How do people feel connected

How does the world seem real

I just want to get high 

And be high

And write and purge this feeling

This shit feeling

In a way that touches me

And touches you

And it’s so frustrating

I don’t want to be that kind of person

But I don’t want to care and I want to write so badly

So badly

I just want to scream it all onto paper and throw it out into the void and enjoy the satisfaction it brings

And I’m so tempted

So tempted

Drowning

Drowning.

And I don’t know what to do.

And I don’t know what to say.

Trying not to think too hard.

Trying not to focus on what’s going on inside.

What’s tearing me apart?

Fear. Agony. Loneliness. Despair.

I just want to hide in the corner between the bed and the wall.

Shut my eyes tight.

Cover my face.

Close my ears.

Scream and scream and scream in silence.

Cry until I choke and drown.

Courage

I wonder if maybe I'm lying to myself.

Did I really only want to get fucked up?

Or did I want to die?

I knew the pills wouldn't be enough.

I knew that.

But the pills might have been enough.

And I was aware.

The knives are only ten feet away.

I could drown myself in the bathtub.

Look up how to make a noose online.

All sorts of easy ways to die and none were that far away.

All I needed was a little courage.

To care a little less.

To be a bit more reckless.

Was I lying to myself?

Am I lying to myself?

Do I want to die?

Going to lay here now.

Hurting.

And not say anything.

All out of "courage" now.

Useless.

Useless.

Useless.

Special to no one.

Nothing.

Empty.

Swallowing some more.

Hope I'll  disappear soon.

Song

Took some pain killers.

Planning on taking more.

‘cause what’s the point?

I try to not do these things ‘cause I don’t want to be like my dad.

But who cares?

I don’t.

I want to get fucked up.

If I had more money, I’d be drinking and smoking right now too.

‘cause who fucking cares.

No one.

No one.

No one.

No one.

No one.

No one.

Lalala.

It’s a song.

A song of madness.

Always playing at the back of my mind.

No one cares.

No one cares.

No one cares.

I am forgettable.

I am worthless.

I am useless.

I am wrong.

Erase my existence.

Undo me.

Hate me.

Hate me.

Hate me.

Lalala.

Lalala.

Lalala.

Let’s swallow some more.

Who cares anymore.

Haha it rhymes.

Lalala.

Lalala.

Two down.

Twelve more to go.

Was saving them.

For a fun time.

I’ll make this a fun time.

Aren’t we having fun?

No one cares.

No one cares.

Lalala.

Lalala.

I want to cut myself.

Stab myself.

Burn myself.

Drown myself.

Suffocate myself.

Hurt myself.

Again and again.

Over and over.

Might as well.

Will you hurt me?

Cut me.

Stab me.

Burn me.

Drown me.

Suffocate me.

Hurt me.

Again and again.

Over and over.

‘cause what does it matter?

No one cares.

No one cares.

Probably would think I deserved it.

Probably would think it’s my fault.

I do deserve it.

It is my fault.

Worthless me.

Useless me.

Why am I here?

Every day.

Why?

Is there a point?

A reason?

I don’t see one.

I’ve never seen one.

It was a mistake.

I was a mistake.

Erase me.

It’s not like it would matter.

If I’m here.

If I’m not.

No one cares.

No one cares.

Lalala.

Lalala.

My mother would be relieved.

My father said so.

I believe him.

Spoken truth.

He’d be relieved.

They’d all be relieved.

No more burden.

Useless.

Worthless.

Lalala.

Again and again.

Over and over.

Always playing at the back of my mind.

Sometimes louder.

Sometimes softer.

But always, always there.

Continued.

Still no good at saying anything to anyone about it.
Can’t.
Don’t want to.
Don’t want anyone to see how weak I am.
Don’t show them.
All you can expect for it, is pain.
You learned this lesson.
So many times before.
It’s superficial.
No one really wants to know.
No one really wants to deal with it.
Mocking. What? You want to cry? You gonna cry?
No. I won’t.
Never.
Hit me.
Hurt me.
Break me.
I’ll lock it away.
Smile. Laugh. Joke.
Never show the pain.

...

I went. I told them about this. About how I am. How I've been. I did that. You made me. So I went and I did it. Now, you hound me to tell you how it went, and then you talk to me with disbelief in your voices of what I have to say. What the hell was the point then? Why do I even bother? I speak and you hear nothing of what I'm saying. What did I do? When was it that I became so distrustworthy that you can't believe me when the outcome only affects me? Yes, I do lie to you, but it's only so you all can be happy. So you don't worry.

I didn't want to go back. I don't want to talk. Don't make me think about what happens next. I don't want to remember. I want it to fade, to disappear. But here it is, running around in my head, tearing my mind to shreds, breaking me all over again

Broken.

Can’t stand it. Can’t stand it.  Why don’t you answer?  Why are you always always unavailable when I need you?  I don’t need your advice or an ear for listening, I just need you.  You’re just as crazy as me and while you don’t always get me, you always get this. 

I’m at my breaking point.  Implode or explode.  One or the other.  Either way, I’ll let them all down again.  Be the screw up again.  If I could just not be me I would.  I don’t know how.  I suppress it as much as I can.  If I could I’d go away where you could just pretend everything’s fine and be happy and not have to deal with me.  I know I’m a disappointment.  I know you want to fix broken, damaged, misguided me.  Blaming yourself, blaming me, loving me, hating me, wishing I was different, angry that I’m not different. 

Broken. Broken. Broken.  Did you break me?  Did I break me?  When did I break?  Was I always broken?  Should’ve just given me back.  Shouldn’t have had me in the first place.  I’m not like him.  I can only be me.  Always, always.  Chest hurts.  Head hurts.  Screaming. Screaming.  Always screaming.  I wish you would hurt me.  Hate me.  Why do you love me?  Staring at me with those stupid eyes.  I hurt you.  Being me hurts you.  Makes you cry.  Makes you bleed inside.  Hate me.  If you hate me, it would be easier.  Maybe for you, maybe for me.  Talking, talking.  Whispers and stares like I don’t know it’s me.  I watch you two.  I’m not allowed in.  I ruin it.  Make it sad.  That’s why you sound so angry.  I should disappear.  I see it.  “What? What do you want?” just sounds like “get away. Get the hell away.”  What should I do?  I have nowhere to go.  Nobody wants me.  Not me.  Not this.  Who would?  Who could?  Empty, empty.  Pain, pain.  Fear, fear. Hate me. Hurt me.  I’ll never say a word.

I don’t want you.  Why are you here?  Go away useless thinking.  Stop tearing up my mind, my heart.  Screaming, I never make a sound.  Bleeding, but why can’t I die?  Why won’t you let me die?  I want to die.  I don’t want to die.  Where is my peace?  Safety.  No refuge.  Taken away.  It was taken away.  My solace.  My escape.  Tainted.  Made yours, not mine.  Why?  Am I allowed nothing?  Do I deserve this?  What did I do?  A wish I made so many years ago?  Punishment.  Payment.  Atonement. 

Shaking.  Trembling.  Why don’t I cry?  Never cry.  Never never.  Don’t speak.  Don’t cry.  Take it.  Take it all and just die a little more inside.  I was laughing.  I was happy.  I deserve to suffer.  It’s my fault.  My fault.  A broken family.  A broken home.  A broken mind.  A broken heart.

Get out of my head.  Get out get out get out getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout.  I hate you.  I love you.  I hate me.  I love me.  Which is true?  Is this reality or is that?  I don’t know anymore.  Did I ever?  I just don’t know.  And maybe don’t want to.

I can't think straight.

 Everything’s jumbled and jagged, swirling round and round, cutting up my thoughts, making everything so confusing, my brain feels like it’s burning up, I can’t think. I want to make it stop. I just want it to stop. I want everything to run in the right directions, I want to remember what day it is, I want to know what I’m doing, saying, thinking, feeling. It’s all just so everywhere, scattered, running too fast, I can’t stop it. So many thoughts. What am I doing? What am I saying? Who is this person? Where did I go? Or is this me and that other me was the fake? How do I know? Would anyone know?
It’s so quiet here all the time. Always empty. Just me. All alone, all the time. I don’t want to go to sleep. I don’t want to be alone. I’m terrified and I don’t know why. I know if I sleep, I’ll wake up and feel better. Well, usually, but I’m still so scared. Why is it so scary? I hate being alone all the time, but I hate when there are other people here too. I feel like I’m suffocating, like I’m drowning. If I opened a vein, would this feeling eventually drain out with my blood? What would it take to make this go away? These feelings that make me feel like there’s a hole in my chest sucking out everything and leaving only emptiness and pain? Can that be cut out?
I don’t want to be me so much, but I don’t want to be anybody else either. I just want to work. To have everything function normally. I’m so tired of feeling like such a freak. I know that a lot of things I do are not normal, but I hate feeling like they’re abnormal. I hate feeling like I’m abnormal.
I don’t even know what I’m saying and I’m crying again. I hate crying, hate it hate it hate it. Crying is weak.
I think I need to be done with this now.

Kitty

Oh, look cute kitty.

The world is a fascinating place

Or maybe...

The world is a vampire.

Hmm.
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