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Old April 22nd, 2007, 05:36 PM  
schrei jess
Awesome Poster
Join Date: October 5, 2006
Age: 25
Gender: Undisclosed
Default There Are Two of Me Now

This isnt a poem or anything, more like something I would write in a journal if I kept one. It probably sounds like it should go in the cutting and self harm forum, but Im done asking for help here. It's not that I dont get help, it's just that the new me wont accept it. I just decided to write this down, to help me in my decision.

There are two of me now.

The old me, pushed back behind, almost forgotten. She’s not allowed to act anymore, barely allowed to speak. But I can still hear her, she talks to me, little whispers in my head. She wants to be the one in the front again, but the new me wont let her. She is everything I once was, the good and the bad. I used to think most of her was bad, but now that I see what it’s like without her, I think that she was better. She was really deep, and saw the world for what it really was. She was depressed, and she would hurt herself, but she made it through the day. She wasn’t very approachable, but she didn’t need anyone to talk to her. She didn’t try to get better, she didn’t really want to be better - she had something not everyone had, she had control over how she felt. The more she hurt herself, the more she could breathe. And even though her habits were destructive, they made everything okay. She made things painful, but she wasn’t fake, everything about her was real.

She would have stayed, but they forced her back. The hospital, my parents, therapists, they all made her go away to make room for the new me, the one that they think I should be. But they didn’t really know the old me. She was destructive, but she was never a bad person. But they didn’t care, they forced her back when they put me in that hospital. They took away her freedom, and broke her down. They took away her dignity, forcing her to ask for everything, forcing her to surrender. They broke her down day after day. And she gave up. To be honest, I was glad that she was gone at the time, I didn’t like being there. Once I got out, the new me came into the picture.

The new me...I don’t even want to say that she is me, but she’s taken control. She’s a bitch. She is mean to the one I really care about. She’ll always apologize afterwards, but she doesn’t even think about what she does before she does it. Her impulsiveness is worse than it is with the other me. She has no creativity. She can’t write poetry, and she can barely update the stories the old me started. She is going to completely destroy them, and they are something the old me really loved. When she tries to write, she really has to sit there and force the words out, the old me NEVER had to do that - they came to her, and they flowed endlessly. The new me does everything her parents say. She does most, if not all, of her homework and does not skip classes. But she lashes out at the teacher the old me liked, and walked out of her class, getting me in trouble. She’s so fake. She laughs and smiles, she’s bubbly and nice to almost everyone. But it’s all fake. Her happiness is fucking fake. She has to take pills to get her floating happiness. Without them, she’s a hundred times worse. She becomes super bitchy, and hypersensitive to everything. She doesn’t like being touched, she flips out when people touch her. She is so flawed, but everyone likes her better. My mother even said to me the other day, “You’re so much better, Im proud to be your mother”. She was never proud of the old me. I don’t like the new me, and I don’t want her to be in charge anymore. As bad as it was with the old me, it’s so much worse now.

The old me still talks to me. She subtly whispers, leaving ideas in my head. She knows I want her back, and so she gives me ideas on how to make the new me go away. She says to get her back, I have to hurt myself. Anything will do, cutting or burning, she doesn’t care - she just says I have to do it. I haven’t done it in a while, maybe a month has gone by since the last time I sliced my skin. And Im hesitant. I do want her back, but should I give it up and do what she says? Ill admit that I want to.

They’re both pulling on me, like a game, pulling me in both directions. And as much as I hate the new me, somehow I feel that she might be better for me. But I hate the feeling of being fake, of being someone Im not. So who do I give in to? Do I hurt myself, and let the old me come out, let her breathe? Or do I stay with the new me, the one who’s a bitch with now creativity? Even now, she can barely write all of this, I have to sit here forcing the words out to the point of a raging headache. Who do I listen to?

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