The voices in my head

I still ponder the thought as to how I could still be living. Just days ago I was convicted of attempted suicide and placed into a mental hospital, but this is how it all happened.


I am the silent child. I want nothing to do with people. I want nothing to do with being social. I want to be quiet. Yet somehow, I am still blamed for somebody else's mistakes, blamed for somebody else's actions, blamed for something I did not do. Therefore, the adults believe that I am in fact the one who is causing so much trouble, when in reality, I am the good one. The adults hate me, for they think I'm the bad one. They think I'm the cruel, evil girl. On the inside, I can be nice, which is why I'm so quiet.

On Wednesday afternoon, I had gotten back from going out with some friends. A few of my cousins were already at my house, swimming. With a sly smile, I walked up to the gate and offered a hello. Nobody looked at me. Nobody said anything to me. Only Devon asked if I wanted to join. I agreed and went to put my bathing-suit on. When I went inside the house, the adults glared at me. Grandma Marry, Aunt Elsie, and Aunt Debbie. They didn't respond to my hello. They didn't offer a welcome-back smile. They glared. I felt a bit uncomfortable, but just forgot about it. I went back outside and went into the pool. Everybody was talking with one another. Nobody talked to me. I wondered why.

First of all, I already had a slight problem with my family. They seemed to reject me often. They weren't very social with me. I hear them talk about me behind my back. They say nasty things, very heart-breaking to hear. Whenever I call my mom she says it's just because they're jealous. She says they're jealous that I'm the one who gets straight-A's. The one who does good in sports and the one who isn't lazy like the rest of them. But I know they're not jealous of me. I'm different. They consider me the outcast.

Since everybody went on the deck to go eat, I figured that they would eventually offer me something. I was wrong. They all just snook glances at me and gave my dirty looks. With a helpless sigh, I heaved myself out of the pool and went directly into the basement and thought everything over. Nobody talked to me. Nobody smiled at me. Everybody gave me a dirty look. Everybody excluded me. But then I realized, this has been going on for a while. It's been going on since I became independent, unlike my other cousins. I was devastated. I had to do something. Talking never worked. They would never listen. My parents were in Europe, so it's not like they could do anything. They didn't even care that I had depression. In fact, one of my cousins told me that she thought I was autistic, when in reality, I was just anxious to finally be included.

I looked around at my surroundings. There were the knives. With an evil grin, I took the biggest knife, which was as wide as my hands. My hands weren't shaking. I wasn't nervous or scared about what I was going to do. I actually laughed at it. Making my way up a flight of steps, I stepped outside onto the deck. Everybody became quiet and stared at me and the knife in my hand. Nobody asked me what I was doing, or what I was about to do.

"I'm glad I finally have your attention." I said, and everybody kept staring at me, expecting me to say something else. So I did. "I can tell that I mean nothing to you all. That I'm no more than just a "Demon" or sin to you guys. And I've been thinking, why can't I fix that? But then I realized, I can! And I will. I thank you, my cousins, for blaming me for every little fucking thing you've blamed me for. And thank you, adults, for believing them, and never taking my side. This is for you." And with a slight chuckle, I lifted the knife to my throat, and sliced it into my skin.

I kept applying pressure until I slid the knife all the way across my throat. It was painful. Very, very painful. I actually thought I might regret it, but then realized that I wouldn't have to suffer after this. The blood oozed down my throat onto my chest and seeped into my clothing and towel. I felt weak. I immediately knew I was loosing too much blood. The ground was spinning around me, as was my family. I suppressed a small gasp and felt the blood making its way up to my mouth.

I passed out. The next time I woke up, I was being rushed into a hospital bed on a stretcher.

No you blasted fools, what are you doing? I thought to myself since I couldn't speak it. Can't you tell that I want to die? Can't you tell that they want me dead?

I felt the nausea rising up in my stomach and I vomited to my left. All that came out was blood and I could tell that I had swallowed too much. My throat was burning and hurt, but I continued to cough up all of the blood. I wanted to scream, yell, shout, anything to make them leave me alone and let me suffer. I felt the urge to vomit again, and pleaded with myself not to, but before I could swallow, it just came back up, and I passed out again. Joy.

When I dared to open my eyes, everybody was staring down at me. Expecting something out of me.

"She's awake." I heard somebody whisper.

Well no shit I'm awake, can't you see my eyes open, staring right at you?

I reached my hand up to my throat.

"Don't touch it!" I heard one of the nurses hiss at me, but I just ignored her and continued to reach around.

It was being compressed together by gauzes, and I noticed there was a machine to help me breath. I didn't need help breathing. Why were nurses and doctors so ignorant nowadays?

"Do you suffer from depression?" The doctor asked, and I nodded my head. "Do you have suicidal thoughts?" He asked again and I stared at my cousins before nodding my head again. "Did you attempt to commit suicide?"

I felt the tears stinging my eyes and my throat burning again. I felt so ashamed of myself and was barely able to whisper out the one syllable, "Yes."

I was sent to a mental hospital. They thought they could make me better. The other kids had done some pretty stupid stuff too, but I don't blame them. In fact, what they did makes what I did seem pretty minor, but deep down I knew it wasn't minor. I nearly killed myself, how could that be minor?

The people there asked me a bunch of questions, and I admitted that I did harm myself and think negatively often. They sent me to a special therapist.

They won't be able to change me though. They won't ever be able to tell me how to and not to act. I'll always be the same person no matter how hard they try. And just the thought of that gives me pure satisfaction.

But I'm living because I was rushed to the hospital. I know now that my cousins and aunts and uncles do care about me, but they're afraid to show how. They don't want to hurt me, or say anything in fear that I may break. Silly fools, should have thought of explaining that to me earlier.

I don't want to eat anything. I'm not hungry. I'm not anorexic. I'm not going to become anorexic, I'm just not hungry. People are trying to force me to eat food. Just the smell of something makes me want to vomit. The sight of it makes me want to vomit. I just don't want to eat. They don't get the point. They're trying to force me.

Leave me alone. I want to shout at them. Can't you see I don't want anything?

Nobody understands me. They're all treating me differently. I won't eat, they should understand that by now. I don't want to talk, and it's not just because it hurts to. I feel like a ghost. I have to creep and sneak around and not get noticed, but at the same time, it's like somebody always feels me near them. It's like I'm haunting them and they have to stay aware. I don't know if I should pity them or not. All I know is that we're all cautious since my attempt of suicide.

I've always been told that I'm a good listener. I listen to everybody's problems or what they have to say, then I try to give them the best advice possible. I've always been a good listener. I barely complain to anybody until it just comes raging out. I try not to complain. I don't want people to look down as me as the complainer. So now everybody is just letting everything out on me. I try to listen the best I can. But I'm sick of it. I don't want to listen any more, I just want everything and everybody to be quiet. I want everything to be quiet. What would it take for things to be quiet?

I know if I tried to pull off another stunt, I might get trapped in that insane hospital for years. I don't want that. I just want to be normal. But then again, what is normal? I know that I'm odd, different, and not like anybody else. But I don't know how to change. I don't think I want to change. I wouldn't mind being like this for the rest of my life. I wouldn't mind one bit.

I ask questions, but never receive answers. I want answers, that's why I'm asking. I want to know everything. I want to know what people are hiding from me, what people are saying about me and why.

I don't always feel welcomed either. Nobody bothers telling me about stuff any more. They don't bother asking me to join them. They don't bother asking me anything. It's like they're not my friends any more. I'm no more than just a stranger. I'm no more than just a particle. I'm no more, than nothing. I am nothing. I'm used. I'm used to help defend. I'm used to help stand up for one another, but I get nothing in return. I'm just the tag along that was never welcomed. Never welcomed.

It's getting harder and harder for me to breath every day. It's like I'm being constricted of expanding my lungs very much. I don't think my inhaler will help. There's a burning in my chest and throat. It won't stop. I try to ignore it, but for some reason it won't go away. It could be that I'm just imagining this, but it just seems too real. Too real to be true.

I don't feel important to anyone, anywhere. I always seem to be the last one noticed, or the last one cared for. Nobody gives me advice, unless it's simple common sense. It seems that somebody else always has a problem that's worse than mine. Nobody bothers asking how I am. Nobody bothers asking if I need anything, or if I want help with anything. It's like I really am invisible.

I want to cry. I want to let everything out. Let out every little lie I've said. Let out everything that needs and wants to be heard. Let out all the stress, all the pain, all the grief. But there's no one's hands to help wipe away the tears. Nobodies arms to catch me when I fall. Nobody. I'm alone. I'm trapped in myself. I'm trapped with having to care for myself. To try and solve everything on my own. I have nobody. Nobody. The tears just swell up inside of me. Nobody tells me it's okay to cry. Nobody tells me it's okay to let it all out. Nobody. I'm trapped in myself.

I don't want to deal with anybody else's problems. I honestly don't. I might or might not have the right answer. I get their hopes too high. I try too hard to help make them feel better. But what's the point when I'm still suffering? It doesn't help to know that I make people feel good. Where's my support? Where is it? Where are the people who are here to comfort me? I don't mind helping. I'd just like somebody back in return...Something that's useful to help me get better, if there even is a way.

One of my best friends thought I had betrayed her. I feel so sick and nervous because I don't want her to think that since it's not true. After explaining to her why I hadn't talked to her much she said she believed me, but I just still feel a little cautious around her. I'm really sorry, I really honestly am. I wish I had never left her. I wish I had at least told her I was leaving. I'm so sorry. So sorry.

I still can't seem to get out a tear. It's like they're concealed inside my eyes. I feel so odd. I feel empty. The only time I'm at my best is playing hockey now.

I think I'm done. Just done with everything...

I told those ignorant fools that I couldn't eat. That I wouldn't eat if I didn't want something, but they just keep forcing me to. We went out to a Sea food restaurant, even though I can't stand the taste or smell of it. Instead, I was going to order some pasta. (Pasta at a sea food restaurant...what the hell?).

"Oh, that has no meat in it." My aunt had said.

"That's okay, I don't want any." I told her.

"I think you should eat some meat though. Get the chicken parm.."

I thought I should tell her that I hadn't eaten chicken in two years since I got sick from eating it. But I wanted to make her happy, so I agreed. When the food came, and I took a bite, I nearly vomited right then and there. I looked at the inside of the chicken. Redish-pink and chewy. Disgusting. It was raw. I knew it was going to happen. My aunt looked concerned though, so I kept eating it, hoping I wouldn't puke in front of everybody.

"What's wrong?" My uncle had asked.

"What?"

"What's that face you're making? Is it bad?"

"Uh, yeah. I think it's raw."

"Then why didn't you stop eating it?"

I only shrugged and threw it out into the garbage. I wasn't hungry to start out with anyway. Later that night I decided to have some "fresh" strawberries we picked up in Delaware or Maryland. Apparently "fresh" meant intoxicated with deadly chemicals and bacteria. I knew there were chemicals in them because I'm allergic to the chemicals. My tongue and throat swell up.

That night I vomited. I had a slight fever. I felt like shit. My aunt insisted on taking me to the hospital. It's a good thing she did too because I ended up having food poisoning/salmonella. Great. Just what I needed.

I got better obviously. I just still feel horrible from eating that.

Even when something good happens to somebody I dearly love, I still can't manage to cry tears of joy. I can't remember the last time I did cry. It's like the tears are trying to get out, but there's a vacuum sucking them back in. I feel so guilty. I hadn't even cried at my great uncle's funeral.

I hate talking about religion. What's there to believe if you have nothing to prove? Quite frankly I don't give a shit what you believe in, because in reality, your just taking it from someone who's trying to make you believe. People are telling you what to think and believe, and you fall for it. Well good luck to you, because that's not going to get you far.
The other day I had asked my mom about the family at home. She said that they're religious.
I asked her if it was okay that I'm atheist, and she said of course. But my family at home (Slovakia) wouldn't be too happy. But what is there to believe? Just an ordinary person who didn't do wrong? Or a person who did nothing but wrong? Complete bullshit.

Normally I'm not a complainer, I usually just share my perspective and opinion or how I feel. But this time, I cannot take it. I ask that we don't talk about something, and that's the least somebody could do, to stop. But no. This time everybody had to stretch it beyond the limits. Again, I had to ask to stop talking about that certain subject. How disrespectful. In return, I simply left the room.

Of course nobody followed. Of course nobody called to ask if I was okay. Of course they didn't. Like I said, I'm the second choice. The one that's never needed or wanted. Oh sure, just go ahead without me, it's not like your tearing me apart or anything...

I really wish I was dead. I'm not joking. People think they're dealing with so much shit, when in reality it's nothing. I have to deal with shit too. I have to deal with people I don't like everyday. I have to deal with people talking shit behind my back because they don't like something I do. I'm not taking things too far. I'm dropping it, I step down. But they just keep going.

Well news flash people, compared to all the whining, complaining and shit that you've gone through, it's probably nothing compared to me. My parents left for Europe when I was about 4. They come by every few months to visit for a few days then leave again. So I lived with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. What I didn't know about my aunt and uncle, was that they didn't want to deal with me. They were abusive to me when nobody was around. They'd yell at me for every little thing. They'd call me names, and they'd hit me. They'd hit my with other objects too. I couldn't complain about it. Nobody would believe me if I did. My aunt and uncle were great people... I've been through all of that pain.

I've dealt with horrible relationships with friends. I've felt the pain of them leaving me because of gossip and rumours.

I've dealt with physical pain, I can even list it for you;
-Abuse
-Hockey
-Stress
-Asthma attacks
--falling off of something and bashing my head open
--falling off of a zamboni and smashing my head on the ice
--rock climbing gone wrong
--biting my tongue off
--breaking bones
--surgery on my knee and back
I've been through it all.
So nobody has any right to tell me that I complain too much, because half of these things nobody knows because I. Don't. Tell.

And you know what, we all have our bad days, but don't be a hypocrite and whine about what somebody else does or says about them having a bad day. I'm sure you have too.
And especially about break-ups and make-ups. It's your fault somebody broke up with you. You trusted them, and you decided to date them. They dump you, too fucking bad. Get over it, move on. It's life.
Life is shitty, we all know.

Maybe we...why don't we just sit here for half an hour...so we can speak of what a waist I am. Of what a regret I was to you. Of how you wish you never met me. Of how I don't belong... Yeah, I've heard the same story over and over again. "Don't take it personally, it's just that..you don't belong..." "Don't take it too much too heart, but it's just you're so different and...". Yeah, come up with a better excuse that I haven't heard and I might believe you. What I want to know is why..why do you keep abandoning me? What the fuck have I done wrong? I've always been on your side. I've always helped you at your worst. I've always been there for when you needed me. But now what? But now that you don't need me you're going to abandon me without saying anything? Not leaving me a message, a notice, a call? Nothing?

There are no words to describe how pathetic that is. No words whatsoever. I see through your pathetic lies. I see what you're trying to do to me. I see and know it all. I know you're ignoring me. But what you don't know, is that I'm aware of your presence. I'm aware of where you are...Yet you don't even say anything to me.

Well what ignorant and selfish mother fuckers you are. For all I care, I would damn you to Hell and let you rot. I swear on my life I will never forget this. I've given you all a chance before. And now you blew it. I'm going to be nothing but cautious and aware when around you. So stay alert, you never know when I'm going to strike back, only to get my precious revenge.

Suicide is painless.... Don't you wish you listened to me now? Don't you wish that you asked me what's wrong, or asked how I am? I'm sure you still don't.

But now you can keep in mind that whatever reckless actions I do now, are because of you. Because you were neglectful to me and because you didn't care about me. Yeah, so I guess nobody has the upper hand now...