I'm not sure that the pills are working or that the therapy helps. My mind seems to be plagued with a disease that has no cure. The bad thoughts remain even on a good day. The urge to rip open old wounds sometimes unbearable, but having five months under my belt makes it easier to ignore. Death and suicide on my mind from day to day terrifies me. Yet the color and elegance of my life force will forever be beautiful to my corrupted mind. My life force leaking out the self-made designs coating my body sounds like a nice way to cross if my mind becomes even more corrupt.
I'm scared for when that time comes.
