It has been a month since I last tried to overdose on my medication. What pains me now is that I still feel like dying. I don't know how to explain myself. I just want to disappear.

God, if you're out there, please understand that what I have been planning has nothing to do with wanting to teach anyone a lesson. I am not trying to stir up anything or make people think that I'm out for attention, sympathy, or pity. I have been spared far greater emotions and I don't need to see them now. You've seen me struggle day in and day out so whatever it is that has been brewing in my mind should come as no surprise.

The disease that has been eating away at me has broken down the wall of hopes and dreams that once kept me together and there is such little time left to try and fix it. I have slaved myself with distractions that have now become my worst enemies. It's like this all the time and I have yet to see anything that has any glimmer of change. I am a firm believer in the idea that in order for things to go your way, you ought to fight for them because things don't just happen. I have drowned myself in optimism for what seems like a lifetime. The rewards have been scarce and the victory has become futile.

There are a few things I have kept from the people who know me and those things will never see the light. I have lost so many battles and I am sure it is time for me to stop trying to work towards a rematch. I've nowhere to stand.

People have told me that there is a plan for everyone and that it's up to us to find it. What they don't realize is that there are some people who never really had a fair shot at a future. Some people are just not meant for this. I have been reassured numerous times that I am one of those people. There are so many things picking at my seams.

There is no point in trying to deny the voices inside my head. They have been there from the beginning and neglecting their words of wisdom would be cruel.

God, give me the courage I need to make my promises a reality. You know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Leslie

Tonight the sky has no stars.

The nights are beginning to resemble those I thought I left behind. My eyes are burning but I refuse to cry. I'm not hurting, but I feel like everything is at a loss. I'm too proud to call my doctors because I thought I was over this. How can I explain that I'm not happy without sounding so desperate and lonely? My chest feels like it's on fire. I'm disgusted with myself.

i hurry but get nowhere

i've got a set of bridges to burn and a river to drown.
there's a memory waiting to dance and a feeling to call.
the lines are glistening and hearts are cold.
my conscious is home and has locked the door.

worthless answers to nervous questions is the best you can give.

i feel like my old self today

amen

"A plain cream betrayal, hides behind these walls

Distantly voices of referring phone calls,

The nurses seem to say, behind noise-proof glass,

This kid thinks he's different, why should I ask

I almost stood up and walked to the door

But a promise to mother kept my feet on the floor

The hallway was scattered with irrelevant pictures

And cupboards of cures that they swear by like scripture

"Ahead to the left" she said with a smile

I thought to myself, this hallway's a mile

I looked for a desk, but saw couches and chairs

And she sat looking at me with the blankest of stares

"So how would you say the problems started?"

I looked to the sky as if deeply departed

What an obvious start to an embarrassing tale

Of a life that I loved and couldn't curtail

A family that loved me, an art that I loved

A time that I simply had too much of

"Are you drinking a lot? Are you sleeping OK?

It seems like these things could have come into play"

Of course I was anxious to tell her the truth

This had become my family's telephone booth

If I broke down here, what would that mean

Was I not as strong as my father had been?

But I think I can fight this all on my own

With a handful of happiness that never was shown

We talked about writing, we talked about fame,

We talked about why they all called me insane

She talked about being the one that was great

I didn't know much about that, that wasn't my fate

The only truth that ever came out of this mouth

Was a phrase that seems true only after you shout

"I guess I just can't handle the pressure,

I wish I had taken a walk for the summer"

The time winded down and we finished the session

My eyes had been fixed on the clock, it was pleasant,

I left to the waiting room, men waiting for wives

I thought of my friends and their interesting lives

And I stood at the door, the session was done

And I thought to myself, what have I become?

I walked out slowly and careful not to cause a big scene

I knew others would be waiting here long after me

Now when I think I had it all on my own

Is now when I realize, I'm really alone."

Partington, Joshua. "The Doctor's Waiting Room". Revolution on Canvas, Volume One. Rich Balling. Orange: Ad Astra, 2004. 82-83.

this is by far, one of the best poems i have ever come across. it's funny really, i stumbled upon this after a very long, first day of therapy. 

glitter

here's to a new set of eyes!

despite being tired and vaguely unresponsive, my heart cant help but to glow.

the sun laughed with me today and the moon will do the same.

hope, i won you.

the eyes of the beast are red and glowing

This isn't a recap of the year, or what i expect for the next. I wouldn't call it a rant either... it's more like a much needed talk.

i hate bringing up things that makes it seem that i need attention. if anything i hate talking about what's going on with my life. this is something that i have practiced since i was young and being asked to let that go is like betraying who i am. if anything bothers me, i brush it off. lately, due to my therapists request, i have been "bitching" and "complaining" like crazy. i don't chose to be miserable. i really don't. but when people tell me that i need to wake up and smell the roses, i feel like letting my fists do the talking. i have days when i wake up and go "this is going to be a good day, i can feel it" but i have those "fuck you, i don't need you" days, too. again, i don't force myself to feel like a worthless piece of shit. despite my trying, it seems nearly impossible to turn my frown upside down. so, fuck me for being a complete,  whiny, annoying, bitch sometimes but telling me to get over it wouldn't make me feel any better. saying that, i understand that there are people far worse than me. but at the same times, i don't understand how bad i am or could potentially get. i knew there were risks when i decided to go ahead and receive medication for my anxiety/depression, and the first few weeks were hard to get by but as soon as i got used to waking up and taking the damn pill, it was like, the greatest invention ever. I have denied myself to be controlled by that quarter-inch of plastic. i even ditched my meeting with my psychiatrist today. i have fallen to the same pattern again. this damn pattern has been followed religiously for the past two years but i hate the idea that i have to be dependent on a drug to make myself want to be alive. i fear that when you read this that you'll get the idea that I'm exaggerating, that it can't be that bad. i have a sunken feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever i think about what people may think about me.

this year has consisted of too much sleep, isolation, medication, therapy, trying to revive my friendships, and plenty of good times.

next year is as hazy as any other.

i am as optimistic as i am pessimistic. 

im going to ask something of you. if you read this, tell me what you think. i would rather know what you really feel than not know. if its going to be harsh, say it. if its understanding, say it. just talk!

I DONT WANT TO FEEL LIKE IM TALKING TO A FUCKING WALL AGAIN!