Tongue Slip

Desperation.

If someone  can fall asleep knowing you are crying  or you did not get home safe... They don't care-its time to move on.

It was hard... Very, very, totally hard.  It felt like forever.
It was torturous.

And i was scared.

And alone.

And lonely.

And terrified.

Terrified that i was never going to find my way up again.

Lonely  because  i was alone in this huge white room that received no visitors other than the therapist and nurses and doctors who checked up on me.

Alone because everyone else that mattered did not care anymore.

Scared because...i would say the voices in my head that i did not have control  over... But i would be lying... I was scared of myself  and what i could do if i listened to the voices.

So i kept quiet... Never speaking even when addressed.

There were days when the voices were louder than others... Sometimes it was like hearing myself speak... Sometimes my father... Or spring or Carlie.

Some days more insistent than others... This were days when i tried to  it off.

I can't really know how long i was there, every time the lights were on...

I was on sedatives and such strong meds as if i was being experimented on.

When I thought about it, i felt used and unloved.  No body came to visit at all. I even missed Carlie's visits to my room. I felt like i was isolated. Like what i had was infectious. Like i had never mattered to anyone.

And i blamed myself. I brought it upon myself.

I drifted to numbness and depression every time i was awake.  I did not have tears in my tear glands. Every day without anyone coming chipped my heart bit by bit until there was nothing.

I convinced myself that i cannot remember their faces    i was beyond hurt. And i could not forget  my mistake.

I can't explain how it happened,  but i just began cutting  myself  with a needle that i took from one of the nurses when she came to inject me.

It was painless... Or Maybe what i felt inside was numbing what i felt on the outside. It was not  deep... Just a scratch...

One week later... I think so... It was finally  noticed. It was no longer an a scratch... It was deeper... And infected.

That snapped them out of it. 

Everything was a blur after that  there voices were like  incoherent  noise  buzzing in my ears and because i was not used  to outer voices i cringed and put my hands over my ears.

The voices in my head sounding louder, as if trying to over power the outer voices.

I did not realise i was talking until i screamed out "SHUT UP"

Then it was silent and for once in a very long time, it was finally quiet.  I wanted to stay there and ravish on it. To enjoy it while it lasts.

But of course  it was not long before they started again.

I was strapped on the stretcher and transfered into the hospital wing... Or that is what i think it was. 

The fight in me was long gone and so i did not bother to resist when headphones were placed on my ears and the volume blasted to the fullest until i felt as if my eardrums would give way Just  like i had....in so many ways.
My eyes stared glossly at the plain empty walls. I should be used to the smell of anaesthetics by now but i was not. Its smell burnt my nostrils as if it was my first time to inhale it.