Overdosing

“The second time I overdosed,
my body couldn’t handle it,
and I threw it all up.
I texted my dad saying,
“I think I took a little too many pills”.
And every time I’ve overdosed,
I always downplay it.
I’ve always tried to act
like it wasn’t a big deal.
That having the urge to swallow a whole bottle of pills
was something daily that normal people do.
My dad hurried home and saw the empty bottle
and he shook me to make sure I was awake.
I kept mumbling “I threw it up.. I threw it up..”
while I was drifting off to sleep.
He had to wake me up every 15 minutes 
to make sure I was okay.
Let me tell you now,
it is a big deal.
The third time I overdosed,
I slept through first and second period
and passed out in the counselor’s office.
I didn’t want to go to the ER.
I just wanted to go home.
All I wanted to do was sleep.
Again, I just said,
“I think I took too many pills this morning.”
The fifth time I overdosed,
my dad found the empty pill box.
I hallucinated, I had a fever.
I couldn’t move my legs.
All I could do was scream,
“Don’t take me to the hospital this time.
I don’t want to go!”
I became friends with a girl who had overdosed
she’s one of my best friends now
and when I heard she was hospitalized as well,
it just makes me realize how real this problem is.
A couple months ago, another friend of mine overdosed.
Do you realize how fucked up it is,
that I’ve done it so many times
that I know the exact procedure that she’s going to go through?
She messaged me saying,
“I took a bunch of pills,
but I just realized I didn’t want to die.
I don’t know what to do. 
Help.”
And I’m screaming at her over the screen 
that she should throw it up and call 911
because sometimes when someone you love
decides that they hate the world,
that’s all you can do.
You can’t teleport through the phone.
You can’t travel through the internet.
You can’t be there to hold them 
and take them to the hospital.
Your love is not charcoal that can
absorb all their poison in their life.
I know, love that you would have done all you could.
Sometimes words aren’t enough.
Sometimes love isn’t enough.
Sometimes a person needs to try dying
to know that that’s not really what they want.
There’s nothing you could have done.
You’ve done all you could.
Just keep loving them.
But you see the thing is,
I got lucky.
I’ve made it back from 5 overdoses
without a scratch on me.
But that’s not always the case.
My favorite teacher’s stepdaughter
locked herself in her room and overdosed.
To this day, 
her stepmother still has a scar on her heart.
To this day,
on the anniversary of her death,
her stepmother still stays home from school
on the anniversary of her death.
Her sister is in a bad mental state,
and so is her biological mother.
Her family has fallen apart.
You overdose because you think 
you will get a peaceful release from death.
It’s not peaceful.
It is not like falling asleep.
It is convulsions, vomiting,
muscle spasms, fevers,
and sharp stomach pains.
An overdose is not instant.
Hollywood has you believing,
that an overdose
is how a lady should exit the world.
As quiet as she came in,
Peaceful and unnoticed.
You will go out kicking and screaming
and wishing you hadn’t taken them.”

01022015

Und wieder einmal war die Welt zu viel für sie geworden. Ihre Schultern waren zu schwach für das Gewicht, das auf ihnen lastete und das jeden Tag ein bisschen schwerer wurde. Und ihr Herz, ihr Herz war zu klein, um all die Schmerzen, all die Gefühle zu ertragen, die über sie hereinbrachen. Lange Zeit schon bekam es mehr und mehr Risse, bis zu jenem Tag. Als sie die Nachricht bekam, dass es geschehen war, dass sie nun nicht mehr bei uns war und ihr die Sprache verging, brach es einfach entzwei, ihr Herz. Es zerbrach in seine tausend Einzelteile und ihr war klar, dass nichts auf der Welt es mehr flicken könne. Es war vorbei. Irgendwann kommt nun einmal der Punkt, an dem es nicht mehr weitergeht, sagte sie sich. Dieser Tag ist heute. Und sie ging und hinterließ nur den Geruch von Eisen in der Luft des Raumes. 

Feeling the fattest I've ever been.

My mind is killing me. There is nothing I could possibly do right right now. 

All I wanna do is die, cut, starve. 

They are back.

Sie sind zurück.
Das Schaf und 13, sie sind wieder da. Sie sind wirklich wieder da, nicht nur in meinem Kopf. Sie sind real.
grau hat Angst vor ihnen, wenn sie so viel streiten, wenn 13 da ist allgemein, so wie ich. Er verschwindet immer wieder, aber nicht weil er mich alleine lassen will, das würde er nicht tun, sondern weil er vor Angst nicht weiß, was er tun soll. Jeder nächste Schatten ist sein neues Versteck. Manchmal dauert es wirklich eine Zeit, bis ich ihn wieder finde.
13 war lange Zeit so böse mit ihm, zu uns, hat ihn so viel angeschrien, ihn runtergemacht, wollte ihn töten. Seitdem traut er sich kaum noch, sich zu zeigen, wenn 13 da ist. Zu viel hat 13 ihm schon angetan.
Das Schaf, es ist ganz schön stark geworden, es hat Kräfte gesammelt, glaube ich. Das ist gut, gut für mich, meistens. Gestern konnte es mit 13 streiten, ohne, wie früher immer, gleich in Ohnmacht zu fallen... Es ist doch noch so klein und wird es wohl auch immer bleiben. Es ist zwar stärker geworden, aber immer noch so winzig, wie es das letzte Mal war, als wir uns gesehen haben.
Aber es hat Kräfte gesammelt, 13 leider auch...
Und das wiederum ist gar nicht gut für mich. Ihre Augen sind groß geworden, schlitziger. Sie sieht böse aus. Und sie ist sehr sauer auf mich, sehr böse und verärgert.
Das macht mir wahnsinnige Angst. grau guckt mich ganz verunsichert an, weiß nicht, ob er verschwinden oder bleiben soll. Das Schaf ist nicht da, scheiße. Und dann ist auch grau verschwunden, einfach weg, wie so oft, wenn er nicht weiß, wohin mit sich.
Und dann sind wir alleine, 13 und ich. Sie muss nicht einmal etwas sagen, es reicht wenn sie mich anguckt, anstarrt und dabei blicken ihre Augen direkt in meine Seele, durch mich hindurch. Sie weiß, was sie anrichtet und sie freut sich darüber. Denn dafür ist sie da. Und sie weiß, wie ausgeliefert ich ihr bin, meistens.

Questions over questions

I was thinking of another change in my blog... It is about the language.
I am thinking about changing it to german...don't really know if there are people who are NOT from Germany, so people who would not understand a thing if I stop writing in English...
I'd be so so happy if those reading my blog could answer me this question, so that those who are still interested in reading it, always still CAN! ❤️

As I told you...

As I told you, I am back now...
But I somehow want to make my blog a lite different.
I want to concentrate on the texts I post and less on pictures.
So my blog will be mainly text posts only.
Maybe there will be a picture once in a while but not often.
So...
Wow...
A lot happened since I was last on here.
I don't know if anyone would or will read this (except of BLACK BUTTERFLY.. SO happy you're still on here and following!!) or is interested in what  happened but I will write it down for me and for you, who might read this...
Last year was trouble. There is no other word for it. I spend nearly all year in the hospital, psych ward or intensive care. I tried to kill myself several times, nearly succeeded once. I hate the fact that they were able to get me back... I wished they would just have let me go when I needed it the most...
So my "psych ward odyssey" ended on November 13th when my lawyer "punched" me out of that ward. They never would have let me go. They wanted me to be in a "closed living institution", something like  a closed psych ward where you stay for one or two or whatever amount of years... You really live there. And that's not what I wanted. So I started to lie like a fucking bitch just to get out of there, I was talking to my mum and she got me a lawyer to get me out of there because for sure the ward people knew I was lying. But in the end I got out of there and am free since then.
But as we all know that doesn't mean that I'm feeling any better. I had big big troubles this year with my anorexia, my social anxiety and my fears and panic attacks. They were worst somewhen in August/September... Then I decided to go to another country for working there, at the end of September. I had to gain weight for that, I was being forced by my doctor, otherwise I wouldn't have been allowed to go.
Actually my plan was to starve myself to death here... But I was feeling so frightened and anxious and alone and all that, that starving was my smallest problem. I cried hysterically every other night, it sometimes made me faint because of the fear getting so big. And this is where I am now... I barely ate the last 3 days. It makes me feel a little better but it makes my dissociations and fears even bigger.
My plan was to stay until christmas, but I'm not even sure if I will make it that long.
My head is such a mess and I don't even know how to explain my thoughts to you.
I just feel so lost but I don't want them to know that's why I can't just go home now...

Real loneliness is not necessarily limited to when you are alone...

Long Time...

Wow, it's been such a long time.
I'm not even sure if someone is still being on here, sometimes coming around to look if something is happening on here.
But anyways I thought of continue posting and blogging...
Maybe it will just be for me, maybe there will be someone out there reading it, too!?

So... I'm officially back.