September 9, 2018
The voices…. They told me to do it… It was December of 1980 when I was admitted to Athens Lunatic Asylum in Ohio. I was seventeen years old, and at that time I did not know what was wrong with me. I knew that I was anorexic, but I did not know why I had voices constantly in my head telling me I was never good enough. The voices in my head would never go away, it drove me insane all the time. It all started when I got these reoccurring bad headaches. I could never concentrate in school and could never really sleep. I would lay there at night wondering when I would fall asleep. When I stayed up at night that is when I would hear them. I thought I was going insane.
All my life I thought I was different. I have always been on the darker side of life; I would watch horror movies, dress differently than others, hated eating, listened to heavy metal, and I found dying fascinating. If I were to tell people this, they would think I was a psychopath and maybe I am? I like being alone and it is not, because I want to be. I am terrified of the voices in my head. Sometimes I can control what they say, but they never completely go away. It seemed like my parents did not care about me because I told my Mother that I felt suicidal and unhappy. She told me I was okay and that it was just a phase. I have always felt like nobody cared.
December 19, 1980, the voices had gotten so loud and I was so tired of not being able to eat. I physically and mentally could not take it anymore, so I tried to kill myself. I waited until my house was silent. I tipped toed down the long dark hallway, past my parents’ bedroom to the garage. The garage was very dark and all I could see was my hands. I turned on the lights and walked over to get a razor blade from my dad’s tool box. I went back to my bedroom and that is when I decided that I was about to take my life. I took the blade and dragged it across my cold pale skin. Blood started to gush out and before I knew it I started cutting deeper and deeper. I then stopped and started to cry because I knew I needed help. I felt very dizzy and I knew that I might be dying. Nope I was wrong, I was just unconscious. That was my worst mistake because I failed. I did not want to live anymore because I felt like it was not worth it. I woke up in a bed, but it was not mine. I was strapped down; I figured so I would not try to harm myself again. I looked down and I had a big white bandage on my wrist and a hospital bracelet, I didn’t have enough light to see what it said. I could see to my left was another bed, but nobody was in it. It was so cold and all I could feel was the brown belt like straps digging into my wrists. Did they mean to tie them this tight? I tried not to freak out, but I wanted to know where I was. I heard screams and not the ones in my head. Someone was screaming “If you are not crazy when you get in here, you are crazy when you get out!”...