u/W0lfGirl4054

I hate myself so fucking much. I at least kinda like how I look usually but even that is just, not working right now. While all those shit thoughts of my body were plauging my head, one of the only 2 people I've ever consentually shown my body to compared me to a girl she knows, saying her tits were better than mine. I still don't get why she did that, or compared 2 different people's bodies in the first place. But it happened at the worst possible time for me. I hate how much effect that had on me. I hate what I did to myself over it. I feel so fucking disgusting. Like I need to cover up, especially when I'm around her. I feel. Idk.

Recently I got the absolute closest I've ever gotten to killing myself. A really bad interaction just really fucked me up & everything old & new that haunts me broke me. I just sat in the tub feeling agony, crying out for a long, long time. I think it honestly scared me a lot. Like I didn't wanna die but it felt like there was no other option. It felt like it was unethical to keep letting myself suffer this much & be doomed to a life of just... this. It's been something I've been feeling for a very, very long time. I brought it up to a loved one. She said she didn't care. I can't fucking describe properly how crushing that felt. But the weight of it seemed to just keep me pressed down into that tub. Then something kinda just, became more clear. I think I know what I need to do now, if I wanna live. I think I might actually be able to get better. Not as happy as I was before everything fell apart a couple years ago, & definitely not as happy as I was before my 20s, but I think I can find some happiness. Some place I belong, & can live, not just suffer & survive. It'll be hard, & weird, & for now I'm still going to have to suffer like this, but I think I found a way to have a future.

At the time it'd kinda been a while since I'd done a proper self portrait. Felt weird considering that's kinda what most of my art was for a long time. As I've been going through more shit I've kinda gone back to doing that for vent art, but I never ended up posting this one since I was worried about a loved one seeing it when there was some social pressure around that. If I didn't seem happy it would cause issue, but I was really not doing well. But that was a while ago now. Plus I rediscovered it while going through some files & it felt weird not having it as part of my portfolio.

Another one I made at the mental hospital, but it felt distinct enough for me to give it it's own post. I meant to make it before. But being at the hospital definitely added a new layer to it.

I don't know who I am. The pieces are becoming more separated. My reality is going with it. It's like my mind feels broken. I don't know what's real. The people I keep seeing in darkness aren't supposed to be real but it feels like actual danger. Even the mundane things vanish before my eyes revealing they weren't real. Sounds that should be normal aren't quite in the right places. I can't get out of this feeling. Except a bit at work. Work is best part of my day because that feels right & real & kinda enjoyable. I can't even be 100% on whether or not I'm actually typing these words or just dreaming/thinking I am. I got a new voicemail of someone just screaming. Idk who. I can play it back, over & over. It feels & sounds so real. But I can't explain it so what if it's not? I don't trust anything in my current reality. Only the past feels secure because I was secure back then. I know it was real.

Recently got out of the hospital :). Wanted to share some of the pieces I made that I liked during my recent stay. I drew a lot lol. Including a written guide below for the pieces & what was behind them for anyone interested.

1: Making me strip really got to me. I think that was the moment I realized this was gonna do more harm than good. I felt such an immediate loss of autonomy & humanity. & despite fighting them on it, it inevitably didn't matter. From there on out, a phrase entered my he's that stayed with me the rest of my stay. "I'm a patient, not a person".

2: Just capturing an emotion of the pain & shock of being put in that place. I think that's when I really figured out how I could use my limited materials [crayons] in a way I liked. By thinking of Yuko Tatsushima's art that I adore & trying to do something somewhat similar.

3: One of the nurses was really nice to me & felt bad that I couldn't really use my own art supplies [confiscated because of the glass bottle the ink is in & sharp metal tips of my fountain pens], so she brought her own charcoals for me since she thought they would feel more familiar to me. I really liked her. Tried to capture the hollow feeling of just being in that awful room with nothing but droning.

4 & 5: Two I actually started before coming. My sketchbook was approved so I got to finish them with charcoals.

6: I felt stripped of everything. Like I wasn't allowed the right of my very own skin. & just suffering there with nothing to distract me from my traumas & demons. Waking up to the girl in the room across from mine crying every morning. Just stuck in purgatory where we were all suffering & seen as less than human.

7: Wanted to do my own shitty take on Yuko Tatsushima's piece 'Misato’s Self-Determination'.

8: Me & Seere. I could always feel him there while I was in the hospital.

9: Found out during supervised art groups that I could use my own art supplies. They got taken away after each time, but still it felt nice.

10: Two days in a row they told me I was being discharged. On the second day they even showed me their discharge list & I was on it. But despite everyone else already deciding it, one bitch in charge who had never met me before that day blocked it, told me she wanted to give it more days & then we'd see, & also that she wanted to put me on antipsychotics... After just skimming a file... never meeting me before a 5 min talk. It fucking hurt. I would never trust them again. There was a bad shift in my mental state after that.

11: A study of the room I was rotting in.

12: One of the nicer moments. I scared the shit out of a nurse who was doing rounds checking on us every 15 mins. Most of them opened the door, but she actually just used the blinds. So I stood at the door & waited. She was cool about it.

13: I was mad, & really didn't trust them after everything, & wasn't gonna believe it until I was actually outside.

14: Felt like I was going mad waiting to get out. That place was ruining my head. At one point I decided I'd stop eating meals until I was gone. It wasn't good but I was kinda trying to hurt myself.

15: I never took those antipsychotics. I didn't believe they were prescribed in good faith, & I was tired of not having my own choice. They thought I took them, but I snuck & destroyed each one.

16: I snuck in a big safey pin. Didn't really even mean to. It was in my ear as a piercing that's been there 3 years. I didn't think about it until I was in the ambulance. But I never told them, & really how the fuck did they not think to check? I kept it, holding onto it as a way to hurt myself. It wasn't good, but I hated them for the trauma they were putting me through. & since their whole goal is apparently to keep you from harming yourself, it felt like some form of control & something I had that I knew they'd hate. & in a place where I felt I had been stripped of just about everything, that shred of control felt like all I had. Even if they'd never know, it was one thing I had. I was desperate, & self harm, both just knowing I had the ability, & actually doing it felt like taking back some control of myself. So the cuts, head bangs, & hunger pains felt like a small victory. A silent protest.

17: There was no other way out. I went in because a loved one was scared I'd kill myself & said they could help me. But it just made me more suicidal, not less. I figured out ways to do it despite their safeguards, & it was so tempting. The idea of making them know their shitty system didn't work. A "victory" in my stupid mind at the time. But I pushed past it, & tried getting out first. They never helped me. So eventually I had to pretend they did, or I was never leaving that ward alive. & they bought it.

When I sit too long, when it's too quiet, I start to panic, & have to remind myself, over & over, "I'm not in the hospital". I fucking hate what they've done to my head. I'm scared it'll never leave me. This whole thing really restored my lack of faith in the mental health industry.

Things ended. I feel, angry? Numb. Dissapointed. She looked at me like I was everything she ever wanted. Things seemed okay. Then days later I could feel the disconnect, & felt so unwanted... She told me there was nothing to worry about. Then last night she told me she didn't love me romantically anymore. I took a walk late into the night, to an empty playground, just listening to music, thinking, drawing my mind. I wanted to post it last night while it was fresh but when I got back I only had 2 hours until I had to get up for work. She says she doesn't regret a second of it. That being with me helped her, which I'm grateful for. But I don't think I feel the same way... At the end of this all, I feel more broken than I did before. Less myself, less sane. I think this kinda just damaged me more in the end...

Gf really wanted me to make this & I guess it's relevant. Fucking bullshit request but it was easy.

I'm fucking losing it. I can't keep feeling like this. Things need to change but I have no idea what else to do & I'm just not getting better. I feel my senses melting away. I keep worrying the people who care about me & causing them genuine stress. I don't wanna feel like this anymore I just want it to stop. On Monday I see my psychiatrist again. I'm gonna ask for new medication.

I'm so tired of crying "please come back" to a corpse that will never hear it. I feel like I've been forced to change who I am. Crushed into something new after who I was died along with everyone I loved most. I'm tired of being the final survivor of my found family. I'm tired of still being here after my story ended. I miss who I was. But I recognize there's no way I can ever be that again. I don't like being who I've been forced to be. I feel like the person I am now is just the suffering memorial of all those I loved most.