Syvelocin
January 6th, 2011, 04:20 AM
...that it's starting to scare me.
How far will it get? Does it stop eventually, does it come to a point where it can't get worse, or will my sanity just continue to go until I lose myself?
Everyday, my thoughts are more screwed up. Everyday, I fantasize about a new way to hurt/kill myself, whether physically or emotionally. And sometimes I can step back and notice how crazy I sound. Most times, I don't even find something amiss.
I've tried to help myself. I've told them anything, everything they ever asked me. They don't really pay attention. Dismissing all my claims. Not taking me seriously. Sometimes, I actually think it's a good thing that they don't realise the reality of the situation, because I fear I'd be forced into everything I wouldn't want to do. Other times, I'm frustrated with them because my issues are just so serious, and they don't seem to realise how far off I am. But I also feel like one day, they're going to realise that, and lock me up and never let me go. Shoving the disgusting pills I've always refused to take down my throat since they finally can make me do things against my will. Because I will be just a crazy girl, with no thoughts or feelings, huh?
And then my masochistic side tells me to let myself get to that point. Let them lock me up. That's where I feel like I belong, the only place I ever felt like I was meant to be.
I wish I could allow myself to just tell my therapist, look her right in the eye and say that I have problems. Because I do, I really do. And week after week, it's "how are you?" "Same old, horrible." "Okay, anything new?" Then it warps into conversations about the next concerts I'll be at and the new Harry Potter movie. Then I find myself paying for a 45-minute random discussion.
I'd imagine walking in her office with scars, four diagnosed mental disorders and hospital stays every year at the least would say something. I guess it's not loud enough.
How far will it get? Does it stop eventually, does it come to a point where it can't get worse, or will my sanity just continue to go until I lose myself?
Everyday, my thoughts are more screwed up. Everyday, I fantasize about a new way to hurt/kill myself, whether physically or emotionally. And sometimes I can step back and notice how crazy I sound. Most times, I don't even find something amiss.
I've tried to help myself. I've told them anything, everything they ever asked me. They don't really pay attention. Dismissing all my claims. Not taking me seriously. Sometimes, I actually think it's a good thing that they don't realise the reality of the situation, because I fear I'd be forced into everything I wouldn't want to do. Other times, I'm frustrated with them because my issues are just so serious, and they don't seem to realise how far off I am. But I also feel like one day, they're going to realise that, and lock me up and never let me go. Shoving the disgusting pills I've always refused to take down my throat since they finally can make me do things against my will. Because I will be just a crazy girl, with no thoughts or feelings, huh?
And then my masochistic side tells me to let myself get to that point. Let them lock me up. That's where I feel like I belong, the only place I ever felt like I was meant to be.
I wish I could allow myself to just tell my therapist, look her right in the eye and say that I have problems. Because I do, I really do. And week after week, it's "how are you?" "Same old, horrible." "Okay, anything new?" Then it warps into conversations about the next concerts I'll be at and the new Harry Potter movie. Then I find myself paying for a 45-minute random discussion.
I'd imagine walking in her office with scars, four diagnosed mental disorders and hospital stays every year at the least would say something. I guess it's not loud enough.