Mind Over Matter

“Its all about mind over matter. If you want to be sad, then you will be. Your doing it for attention and its really starting to piss me off. So smile goddammit!! Go do the dishes.”

Powerful words. Powerful words, from a moronic man. Ladies and gentleman, my father.
I tried to kill myself on December 12th, 2008. I know that because i kept my hospitle bracelet, as proof that it really happened maybe? Idk.

I had been thinking about offing myself since i was about 13. Most little girls worry about boys or whatever the cliche is, and i was wondering how to effectivly end a life. No worries, its just my life. Noone important.
I wont go into detailes about parents and brothers and this is why i did it. Because you already know why i did it. Duh!

I wanted to stop hurting. Things werent getting better fast enough so i though they never would. So i pressed fast forward and sped things up a bit.

I was dying. and oooooh, it felt nice. I had just invented my very own coctail and oh it was to die for.
Heres the recipie in case you wanna try it;

*20 over the counter sleeping pills
*20 Vicodin
*20 Tylonal 3 (thats the good shit with codiene)
*and god knows how many ibprophen (i had a botttle of 500 but didnt take them all…)

*drink soda (it makes the pills less sticky) and enjoy!!

I was a lil buzzed. I wrote a note basically telling my mom whos clothes and books and stuff i needed to return and gave their numbers, gave the big fuck you and was about to take a nap when daddy came home. He took me for i drive.

$ days in the hospitle, they thought i was gonna need a liver transplant. In stead i just needed 17 doses of mucamist (aka liquid farts) and a biiiiig cuppa charcoal.

MmmMmm good.

Then they sent me to the harbor. Where a doctor tried telling me i was bullimic because i wouldnt eat their sick ass food and that i was ugly because i was too skinny and that i was just doing this for attention. I had to stay there for an extra day cause i told him what i really wanted was for his condesending ass to leave me the fuck alone.

I think it was cause i said fuck. But he was telling me to use my WORDS. lol

So i got out of there by agreeing with everything he said (yes doctor, im ugly, yes im bullemic, yes this is all for attention…)

and he said i was manic depressive. (bi polar)
so i got these pretty blue zoloft pills that made life perfect for one whole month…

sure i wasnt as smart as i had once been. not as healthy. Not as fast or as quick witted, but hey my dad felt like a goddam hero so life was dandy..

then our poor ass family couldnt afford them or the 2 1/2 hours of therapy i was supposed to have twice a week either…who knew being mentally ill was so expencive??

youd think they’d give us a break considering…

but anyway, now i still want to die cause everything got 20000000 times worse and am to scared to do it cause i already failed once i dont wanna fail again….help?