Jan. 2003- June 2003 I stared at the broken glass I wondered how it would feel on my skin. I wanted to tear my skin apart so maybe I’d feel nothing but numbness. I just wanted something to control more than the food that went into my body as I did only two years ago. A sense of control and empowerment had came over me. I came into a almost deadly cycle of cutting every night. I would lay around in my bed writing and cutting. Smoking seemed, in my opinion, ‘to mix well with my sweat and blood that filled the air’ in my room. I stayed in a depression for 6 months I cried almost every night feeling so alone and isolated. I felt that no one could ever understand how I was feeling and I was above everyone in this world. I felt like a god just with so much control and power. My poems tended to get darker and deeper and harder for anyone else but me to understand. It was my only way I felt that people might understand my thoughts if they only took the time to read my words. But my words weren’t enough they needed to hear my skin ripping apart as I heard it. My parents learned very quickly that I was hurting myself and they helped me to stop...for a while. Oct. 2003- March 2004 Soon I would get out of the depression only to fall back into it. This time it was worse and I was more alone, empty and craving for sleep. I thought about how insane I was every day, always searching for answers. The question I never knew and that made the answers impossible to get. I kept searching hoping for just some relief from this rock I was under. I just didn’t think I could take anymore of it. Besides my thoughts of suicide every day I knew I just had to suck it up and just live. But I couldn’t ‘live’ really. My life was now controlled by my despair. The only outlet I had was my writing and poetry and that just wasn’t enough for me. I needed someone to just hold me and make everything go away. I needed them to lie to me and tell me everything was going to be fine. I felt so weak all of the time. Like I meant nothing to anyone because no one helped me. But I never told anyone I needed help because I thought they wouldn’t understand if I did. But these feeling began to fade away and I came back to reality and to my friends. I had closed everyone off since I was in my own world. Nov. 2004- April 2005 This time my depression came on a little nibbles of crying and breaking down. At first I was almost okay or so I thought I got into a serious relationship involving sex. I thought I was fine with it I finally realized it was too much for me emotionally and I escaped from it. Then is when I felt like the pain of the world was in me at all times. I thought of suicide more often almost every day. I felt like no one could ever understand depression, anorexia, or the need of drugs. I felt like nothing could ever help me and I would be damned forever. The only book I could master to read was Prozac Nation. It almost made me feel as I was the girl Elizabeth that wrote the book. I could escape into this world of words that spoke in ways I understood. But outside of this world nothing was right. I felt alone and like nothing was inside of me that would be useful to anyone. I felt alone with a crowd of people around me and alone I felt crowded. It was so confusing for me to even grasp anything else besides my own mind and my world from the book. I lived in this fantasy world which seemed only to make sense to me. I would write non-stop about how I felt and what I thought about my surroundings. Music was another way for me to just think. I thought a lot about different things. I thought about what may be wrong with me or was it just me making this up so I’ll feel bad and complain. Now looking back I know something was wrong with me but at the time I just didn’t understand and wanted to be happy again. I wanted control, happiness, and to feel alive again. But I just didn’t know how to find that little girl I once was. Everything had got harder and harder to stand. I couldn’t take it and I just wanted to sleep forever. I didn’t want to die, not to leave these people and this world. I wanted to help everyone. I wanted to do great things, get married and have kids. I didn’t need to die now my life had not begun yet. I was only 18 and I knew it just had to get better for me. I just craved to be happy and to feel alive. Then I felt sad because nothing made me happy and that would make me more depressed. I wanted to understand why this was happening to me. I cried and prayed to God that I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m not a religious person but I just needed help. In this time I had started back cutting trying my best to gain control. But it didn’t feel the same as before. I had to hide the cuts, the blood, and the razors that caused it all. I thought of the future and if I could only see into the future, I wanted this depression to go away. I didn’t want to feel so lonely and empty anymore. I began with fake smiles and laughter that wasn’t mine. I wanted just to fake my happiness because I felt that was the only way to get it. I started a era in my life I like to call it or my attitude then, “Narcissistic - Attention Whore - Control Freak”. I did feel like I was all of those things. I started back on anti-depressants which made me feel like if I was drugged I could cope with people. Otherwise I couldn’t stand them. Everyone bothered me. I was moody and irritable all of the time to everyone. I wanted to be normal without medication. I finally wondered who had I become. ‘Who is this girl in the mirror?’, I’d asked myself day in and day out. I stood out to myself. I felt like the world was in black and white and I was in color. I was odd and I could see everything that was wrong with. Every flaw and every fake smile was lies to everyone that loved me. I didn’t want to hurt anyone with the truth of my despair. I didn’t want pity I only wanted to control my thoughts in my mind. I was aware to everything, how cold the air was on my face, how everyone looked around me, what they were speaking of, I watched and observed everything around me. I became envious of everyone laughing and smiling and I couldn’t bare to have a honest smile. I was screaming inside and outside I was mute. I was lifeless and tired of feeling anything. Closer to my breaking point the depression lifted and I could live again. Although everything was harder to cope with when I didn’t have my depression episodes. I felt weak not powerful and now I had to deal with everything by myself. Without my rational thinking and without insanity. I was sane and couldn’t think on my own, I was completely lost.--