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May 2015 · 363
May 2015 · 479
Scattered Thoughts
Paris Elizabeth May 2015
My writing is scattered like my thoughts because there are so many things
That I've been keeping locked away
Not from you
But from me
Because whenever I have to think about things properly
It hurts
Almost physically.

I cannot think too deep in fear of what I will discover inside
A monster
How much longer can I hide?

You say hello, I say goodbye.

One day
They say
These struggles will be worth it!

Well it's been more than a year now and it's not any easier
Everyday I feel like crying
But just end up sighing
I'm sick of this life
Wasted Life
Was supposed to be something
And now it's feeling like nothing.

Take me away
To the day
Where I look back and say
"my struggles were worth it".
May 2015 · 300
I Spoke to Me Tonight
Paris Elizabeth May 2015
I've lost my skill with words almost as much as I've lost myself, but I know I need to write.

I spoke to my dad tonight.
And his strong self cried because he spoke of me as his baby girl. He spoke of me as though he's preparing himself for my death, because that's all he can see in front of me.
I screamed at him that I need more positivity and he screamed back that it's hard when all of my 'recovery' has been trips to hospital at least once a month from overdoses which have brought me so close to death's door and phone calls and voice messages that he receives saying please come, your baby girl is in emergency.

I spoke to my therapist today.
I thanked her for everything, and got myself ready to leave. She asked me to wait.
She said 'please, if you were me, what would you do with this 17 year old girl'.
I told her that I'm capable of my decisions and my mind knows me best and she looked at me, so worried, and replied.
"your mind is full of demons, your mind is clouded by depression and anxiety and all of the horrible things that have happened. You're mind is clouded, and that, you can't even see."

I spoke to me today.
I said "I know that it'll probably get better but I don't even know if I want it to"
Then I thought of all the people who come out the other end and rush back in to save the others, screaming "yes, come out please, yes, it is worth it, survive, and I promise you will thrive". I thought of my parents with a missing child, my young siblings with a hero gone, my family, a member gone. I stopped myself from taking 100 pills today and I'm trying my hardest to be proud of myself.

I spoke to me tonight.
I think some of the clouds are gone and I can see a bit more clearly now. I've got an entire lifetime ahead of me, one which I'm so excited for. I'm not feeling a lot better, only a bit. But I know the sun comes up tomorrow, and I know darkness will come again and again. Though, I also know that as I get older, and as I give myself more time to recover properly, the darkness will have a light, no matter how small, and my future will be bright, no matter how many times I fall.
May 2015 · 607
Insanity (journal entries)
Paris Elizabeth May 2015
27th October, 2014
So tonight, I'm either going to overdose or email. I could potentially die, or at least cause a lot of pain to my body, or I could not. And I could email and pull myself together. Do I want to? Yes. But i want to see what happens from this overdose first.

Do i pull myself together?

Or do i die?

Why is this question so hard to answer?

I woke up this morning, determined to die today. I had multiple plans. Then I had a nap. Woke up from dads phone call at around 11am. Woke up in a better mood and had the thought "how will i ever get out of this labyrinth - straight and fast". I was determined to recover.

Now im drunk and can taste blood and am questioning life once again.

Oh god.

31st October, 2014
I nearly died I nearly died

I'm out of hospital again, another overdose from a couple days ago

An overdose that left me with short term brain damage and the inability to walk

And I nearly died

I nearly died

In hospital, I had a dream, and in the dream I was in the emergency department of hospital with an iv attached to me. I went to my room to lay down on my bed, and another patient - a girl - walked in and laid down on the couch beside the bed. she was asking me questions and we had a conversation, and slowly it started to morph into the actual room - and she was laying in one of the shelves beside my bed‏.
i sat up and asked her why she was in hospital and she went completely silent and started picking at the paint of the shelf above her‏
then i was staring at her‏

and i blinked and she was gone - my clothes were arranged so it looked like she was using some as a pillow - the rest were gone‏
and then i walked out and i was losing the plot like i was completely insane man i heard voices and could sense people around me and i figured out that the girl WAS ME. SHE WAS ALL MY PROBLEMS IN THE FORM OF A PERSON. and all these people ended up convincing me that everyone in the hospital was dead. they said i had to join them. i knew i was going to die. i freaked out for a solid half hour because i knew everyone was dead and then i kind of just accepted it and walked into my room, where i laid down on my back and waited for my death‏
but then they were silent‏
and i ended up falling asleep‏

this morning the nurse walked into my room and told me i had a call from my friend - it was ruby and the phone said 9:30 am. Then my roommate kinda woke up and peered around the corner to see me and i was like "gosh you had a good sleep in" and i was sitting up talking and then i realised the phone wasn't in my hand. so i was like "crap i dropped it" and i searched for a good ten minutes- turned all my sheets upside down. No phone. My roommate was still asleep. It was 6:30 am. i spoke to the nurse, who told me she didn't bring in a phone.
This was October, last year, when I lost the plot, overdosed and was put back into hospital. These are my notes before and after the admission.

— The End —