Here's some lyrics from a song I worship.

1-800-Suicide
Or maybe Doctor Online could help you die
You need wings to fly
You need someone
To take your place when you are gone
~Zeromancer - Dr. Online

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This is l a little of my history on this god forsaken thing we call a planet.
I was born in Massachusettes, which I think should
have never happened. Everything was all
well and good, untill we moved to fucking
Ohio. Where I am currently held,...Hostage, I guess
you could say. I was only in second grade
when my parents got divorced. I still
remember the agony and pain I felt as soon as the
words came out of my father's mouth. Soon after I was
put in theropy seeing as how I took the
divorce the hardest. Then it waqs noticed I was ADHD.
And for all you fuckers out there who have
no fucking clue what I'm talking about. It
means (Attention Deficit Hyper-Activity
Disorder). It's the same fucking thing as ADD accept
with a kick of hyperness. And then shortly after that.
It was founded that I also have Bipolar Disorder.
And I'm not going to waste my time telling the dumb fuckers
out there what that means. But then after
about two years of fucking with my medications I snaped and was hospitalized.
I went to a I guess what you would call a "Mental Hospital".
I satyed there for about two weeks and then was released.
I was okay for about four years. At this point I was about 14 years of age.
And then they started to fuck with my medications again.
And just recently I spent about three days in a juvinal detention center
because, my 13 year old sister got mad at me and
called the PIG department. And as of right now I am
15 years old and am on probation. But let us
back up a bit. About a year and a half or so I
had an exacto knife in my model kit. I stared
at it for about fifteen minutes and then proceeded to cut my arm.
I will have a picture of one of the first times I cut
on this site somewhere. But then as time prgressed I became
addicted to cutting. It's like whenever I would do
it, no matter how hard I cut, I couldn't feel
the pain. When you cut your mind is somewhere else.
Not present in the same room, or even in the same world
as your body. You get a high I guess you could say.
"A high from self-mutilation?", you may ask.
Yes you get a sense of I guess you could call it relief.
Like all the preasure you had resting on your shoulders had
disapeared. So you start to cut whenever your
stressed out. Then it move to the point when you do
it when your depressed also. And so many other
reasons can be accounted for cutting. I know I do it
when I don't have access to cigarettes. And also when I'm depressed.
I am not condoning cutting or self-mutilation in any way.
But it's something that out there. And someone
everyday dies from this disease.
And I am telling all of you that do cut, that there is help.
Help from people you can trust.
Like friends or maybe a close relative. But I know for sure there will be
no help if you go to a fucking Pyscitrist, and/or Therapist.
And that's all I have to say to that.

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