What does it take to stay feeling good?

I feel good for about a week and then BAM! the depression hits again. And it's not just like, "oh I don't feel well." It's like, "damn I feel like fucking ripping my soul out and feeding it to demons." I never want to get out of bed. And there is no one to talk to unless you count talking to my dog, but I don't think he really cares to listen. I feel the downward spiral coming on.

Strawberry Stranger.

Should you blow away like a dandilion floats in the wind?
Or should I keep you because your taunting me like a Strawberry Stranger?
Love and hate, love and hate, I need to get away.
Far away into the land of the unicorns I shall go, yes, I shall.

You're a Strawberry Stranger, Strawberry Stranger.
Thought I ate you, rid of you forever, but you're still here.
The sound of your voices echoes, echoes.
Through the halls.
Through the walls.
Can't make up my mind.

I want you to need me, I need you so.
I want to flatten you like a fly.
In free fall, I wonder how it feels to hit the bottom.
Whining as a finger on the rim of a glass, I jump.

You're a Strawberry Stranger, Starberry Stranger.
Thought I ate you, rid of you forever, but you're still here.
Through the halls.
Through the walls.
Can't make up mu mind. No, no, no.
no, no, no
no, no, no (fade out)

It's 5:17pm and I am going to sleep...

It's been a tough couple days, sleep wise. My mood has gotten better. I feel happier, not hearing voices, and I have been less anxious. But, I am exhausted. The earliest I have been going to bed is 4am, but usually around 5am or 6am. I get around 1-2 hours of sleep a night. It's bad.I'm really tired, but I can't sleep. But I went to my psychiatrist this morning and she prescribed nuvigil for the days to stay awake on top of my adderall. Nuvigil is prescribed to people who need to stay up for working night shifts, for example. I took it today and it didn't make me more alert or awake. I will give it some time on 150 mgs and then go up to 250 mgs and see if that works. She also prescribed me with 25 mgs of Ambien CR and 6 mgs of Lunesta, which I just took along with my thorazine, abilify, and prozac. I am going to temporarily stop taking my klonopin for a bit to see if I am less tired during the day.We will see what happens. I really hope I can sleep tonight. Goodness it really is a Prozac Nation. But, if it works why not?

Favorite Quotes!

“Kiss me and you will see how important I am.”

-Sylvia Plath






"You know what I think when I'm this close to another body? I think one day at one moment... this body that I'm holding in my arms will stop breathing... stop living. Just... stop. One day you'll happen upon my name in the obits and you'll remember this moment when we were so close."

-Igby Goes Down





"'Madness' is too glamorous a term to convey what happens to most people who are losing their minds."

-Prozac Nation





"Fantasy love is much better than reality love. Never doing it is very exciting. The most exciting attractions are between two opposites that never meet."

-Andy Warhol



“After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

-Albus Dumbledore



"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

-Alice in Wonderland



“The girl at her music sits in another sort of light, the fitful, overcast light of life, by which we see ourselves and others only imperfectly, and seldom."

-Girl, Interrupted



"Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind; don't assign me yours.

-Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind



“I never thought I'd live to see eighteen. Isn't that dumb? Every day I look in the mirror and say "What? You still here?""

-Rebel Without A Cause



"We may not be as happy as you always dreamed we would be, but, for for the first time let's just allow ourselves to be whatever it is that we are."

-Garden State




"It's a form of art and it's one of the oldest forms of art. I find them beautiful so I'm going to keep doing it. I'm not going to let something like that stop me."

-Meagan Fox




"If you are waking up living for something you won't die for, why are you living for it?"

- Lacey Moseley





"I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me."

-Harry Potter

I Love These Scars: They Mean Everything To Me

Ever since I can remember I have been hearing "Him." The demon living in my head. More voices progressed as I got older. I have "the farmers", "the chatter", "the television", ect. It's like a crazy acid trip with no drugs. But, don't get me wrong I am sane. I am the sanest crazy person you will ever meet. If I didn't hear these voices and have these psychotic episodes I would just be Bipolar, not Schizoaffective. However, that's what I am and I have learned to accept it as a daily part of my life. I have my routine...wake up (when I sleep which is rare) take my adderall and prozac. Go to my weekly therapy appointments and psychiatrist appointments. Do my daily activities such as school, homework, hanging out with friends, texting, check my twitter and facebook...basically normal teenager activities. Then it's time for the numb to set in. I take my 10 mgs of abilify, 500 mgs of thorazine, and however much klonopin I can take without overdosing. Then I try to sleep. Most of the time I don't though.
Sometimes to release my anxiety or depression I cut my wrists. I like watching the blood run down my arm onto the bathroom floor. But, as title, I love these scars, they mean everything to me. They give me hope and despair. Knowledge and ignorance. Shame and pride. They are who I am, a stuggling soul looking for ways to express one's self. I express myself in my writing. I write music, poetry, and stories, but sometimes it's not enough. I have this urge to cut. I have attempted suicide numerous times. I get very depressed and hopeless about being "sick" for the rest of my life. But, I have come to realize that it just makes me more of an individual. It makes me who I am.
I do things without realizing what I am doing. I am very innocent to the point of almost being naive, but also have such introspect on the world and humans. I think I have special powers. I think everyone has the ability to tap into the deeper cognitive realms. Not like flying, people. But being able to be in touch with their own and others thoughts, for example. Sometimes my thoughts are so scattered and random, especially in crowded areas, that I KNOW I must be hearing other people's thoughts.

I have recently joined a psych forum for help and support where I wrote,

"I have been struggling with schizoaffective disorder for as long as I can remember. I started hearing "him" (the demon) at age 5. Slowly, but surely I started hearing other things from random chatter to "the farmers." I have attempted suicide 7 times. None of which have been successful, obviously. At first, I was diagnosed with ADHD, then depression with anxiety, then bipolar disorder, then they finally came to realize it was schizoaffective disorder. I am having trouble dealing with the fact that I have a life long illness that requires high doses of Thorazine, Abilify, Klonopin, Prozac and Adderall. I have all these illnesses combined into one category. I get severe ups and downs like Bipolar Disorder, severe depression, severe anxiety and agitation, I am an insomniac, I cut, I have ADD...It's so much to handle for one 19 year old girl. I see a therapist once a week and a psychiatrist every two weeks, but nothing seems to be helping. Even the meds don't get rid of all my symptoms. What should I do? Is anyone else suffering?"


One person replied and told me to excersise. BIG help. Thanks a lot. I know there are people out there with these feelings and symptoms, but where? Where can I find people to reach out to and have people reach out to me? It makes no sense. This disease is so prevalent yet there is nothing.


I lost my train of thought. ADD.


Will continue when it's not almost 4am.

Words To Live By

To Write Love On Her Arms

This organization brings so much hope to people of all ages, sizes, and color.

The First Attempt

Ok so my life has been no walk in the park. Let me begin with the cliché, “We laughed, we loved, we cried.” Beginning with a cliché, childish I suppose. Let’s start with, well, the beginning. As a little tot I was just adorable. I picked flowers, caught lizards, and swam in the river all whilst wearing a dress. Not just ordinary dress would suit. It had to be the fluffiest, pinkest, most gaudy dress there was in the baby line that season. And it always would be. I guess you could call me a tomboy? Tom girl? I don’t know, but I was nothing less of happy as a child. My parents were mostly there when I was around. Well my dad worked all day and night. He was always on call, because he was a doctor. Nonetheless, I wasn’t short of being a happy child. Everything was so simple, so easy. But now let’s jump a big jump up… pubescence. I was not a pretty mid stage girl. I had short hair that parted down the middle with big choppy fringe that I cut myself. Later, I would cut other things. But anyway, I was, well, just strange. I hung out with the weird music kids when I was in middle school. Not the band geeks, the “cool band geeks.” We thought we were cool. None of us ever were though. Oh! How did I fit in? Well, I was in chorus. That’s when I could find out that I could really sing more than the “Sailor Moon Theme Song” in the shower loudly. My sister always snuck in the listen to me. I must be really good. No, she made fun of me. I later started getting embarrassed in front of people. Not large crowds, just small groups. I guess you could say I was shy. Now in an audience I’d be working it. I loved to dance it was my passion before music became the most prevalent part of my life. I was slightly overweight. C’mon you know you ate a lot of Swiss Cake Rolls when you were a kid. Well, it stuck to me, suckers. I had a couple boyfriends here and there but nothing above and awkward middle school relationship. The summer presenting into high school was the closely becoming worst. I started becoming put on psychoactive drugs that summer because they thought I had ADD. What kid didn’t? But that’s when they told me something was wrong with me. “You’re too fat. You’re too thin.” What the fuck? I could never please anyone. Why couldn’t I meet the fucking standard? I became anorexic after they put me on a bunch of speed in daily doses. I didn’t eat one bite. That’s when my disgust with food set in for the rest of my life. I could not bear to see people eat. They turned into these nasty beasts. Pigs, let’s call them, whenever they ate around me. I was not victorious against my eating disorder until I started smoking pot very heavily in about a year and then I had only gained the weight, but the mind set was still there. I tried Bulimia for a while but it didn’t work out because it was ruining my voice, which I always treasured. Every cigarette I smoked, I felt it die a little more. I didn’t start extreme chain smoking until 11th grade, but smoked at a young age. I will probably get lung cancer at a very young age. Actually, I will probably die before I’m thirty. I don’t know what will kill me but I wasn’t meant to live past that age. I’m an old soul, not a new soul. I’ve been told a multiple of times, never by a medical professional, of course, that I wouldn’t live past thirty, but nonetheless, I never expected long life. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, 9th grade. Well, to sum up freshman year, it’s when I turned anorexic and drank more than my body weight in alcohol. I had this one senior boyfriend for a few weeks that I really liked but he obviously didn’t really like me that much. We both liked Star Wars, Weezer, and chorus. What more could you ask for, right? It sounds like the perfect relationship. I think that’s the first time and only time my heart was really broken at the ending of a relationship. He would remain to drunk dial me for years to follow but other than that we never really spoke again. I partied more than any normal kid ever should, at least until they earn the right in college. Partying as a right, a privilege. Funny, huh? I figure if you make it that far alive then you deserve to let go, a little bit. Past college you actually have to live. Like, for real. 10th grade rolls around a year later. Duh. It was an eventful year. It was the year I thought I found true love, lost my virginity on Valentine’s Day, and fell into heavy drugs. I was always on some drug 10th grade, whether it be weed, coke, oxycontin, valium, xanax, loratab, klonopin, salvia, shrooms, or acid. It didn’t matter what. I did it all. I couldn’t go anywhere sober, especially, without my benzos, pot, and alcohol. I wanted large quantities when I wanted large quantities. Instant gratification. Right now! I had this crazy boyfriend that I dated over a year. He was the worst mistake of my life. He just took away all the emotions I had. All my thoughts were distorted when he was around. It was like a fucking love spell someone cast on me until I tried to kill myself the next year. Gosh, I’m giving away all the good parts, right? Sorry. Maybe he had cast a spell on me. I have always believed in magic. It always interested me and I tampered with it a little in that drug stage of my life. What interests me the most in cognitive things like telepathy, telekinesis, clairvoyance, and psychokinesis. I think I can read minds sometimes and I have visions all the times. Not like That’s So Raven, kids. More than that. I see things that don’t revolve around me. Worldly things, I guess you could say. But, most of the time I never found out if my visions came true. I bet they did. We only use a small percentage of our brain what is not certain that some people use a bigger percentage and it happens to be that some other parts of the brain have special powers that not everyone has. Like drugs, they open your mind to different parts of the spectrum from which lies below the skull. It depends like what drugs you take, whether it is stimulants, depressants, hallucinogenics or all. But if you take too much of anything the result is usually for final moments or very close to it. I’ve come so close, so many times. Some of these times were not intentional and some were. Nonetheless, it obviously never worked out when they were. I started to become really depressed and anxious towards the end of 10th grade which led me straight into the psychiatrist’s office, then therapy, of course. Previously, I was put on ever form of ADD drugs because they thought I had ADD, obviously. Well, the actual psychiatrist thought I had mood swings and anxiety with depression and OCD tendencies. Basically, I was a train wreck. However, I was more of a train wreck than they originally thought. But, regardless, I was put on Prozac and Xanax to hopefully cure me. It didn’t and we tried everything Prozac, Zoloft, Cymbalta, Lamictal, Seroquel, Abilify, Xanax, Lunesta, Sonata, Rozerum, Lexapro, Ambiem, ect. The list went on forever. Nothing seemed to work and if it did it had some crazy adverse effect on me. I knew then how fucked I really was. I thought nothing would ever make me better. Like, an alien I need to go home to mars. I fucking hated my damn school the beginning of 11th grade and it was completely mutual. I wished everyone would just be quiet and leave me alone. “Fuck them”, I thought. I think I was really lonely deep inside. I had become very suicidal. I wanted to die but didn’t have the nerve to do it, at first. Deep gashes were perfectly lined along my arm. I still have the scars to prove the pain I was in today. I know it’s totally cliché to cut yourself when you’re suicidal but I know why people are actually in pain do it. It ironically ended the pain. Inflicting pain masked the pain I was in. When I bled and I saw the pain all my worries went away. I had control of the pain instead of it just being there. It hurt so good. Cutting was the most extreme addiction I had ever had. I just couldn’t stop. I wanted to because people saw and asked questions but I just could not. I was at the end of my rope. Things were not going well at all. I wanted to die. I wished death would just come down and strike me in the head. It didn’t so I took things into my own hands. One night, I decided to check myself into the hospital, but I figured if things were that bad that I needed to check myself into a hospital I might as well just kill myself. That’s exactly what I tried to do. I swallowed a handful of Seroquel and Ambien and was on my way. I was so happy about the upcoming result. I never knew how liberating it would be to finally be dead. Of course that didn’t work out. If only I took something more. I would be dead right now. Dead and content. I don’t remember much about that night I was mostly unconscious on breathing tubes. I remember being moved from bed to bed and being rolled out of the ambulance. That was my first ambulance ride. I can’t say it was a fun experience, but an experience in the least. I recall people screaming questions at me like, “what’s today’s date?” As if I knew what the date was. All I could see was mostly black. The light seemed to fade as my heart rate flat lined. The doctors told my parents there was no hope. But, sure enough, I woke up twelve hours later. I was then sent to a mental hospital, Wolfson’s Children Hospital, where they did absolutely nothing for my mental health. After a short stay I was released to PHP, partial hospitalized patient. There were art projects and talk therapy, but it still did nothing for me. At least I got to go home at night and sleep in my own bed away from the crazy kids I stayed with while I was in the actual hospital. I wasn’t doing well at all. I was off all medication and I saw through the therapist sugary sweet façade. I knew she wanted to help, but I couldn’t let her. I didn’t want to be helped. I just wanted to be left alone. I needed to rest. I needed change. That’s what I planned to do too. Change everything about my life that obviously wasn’t working out for me. I broke up with my long time boyfriend, Ryan, who I thought for the longest time was the love of my life. He apparently wasn’t making me happy. I wanted to die. He had gone to rehab a few times in our relationship and had totally taken advantage of my trusting nature. I was totally oblivious to the mental rape he had put upon me until after my first suicide attempt. Many would follow.

I Want To Be Free

Note To Self: Don't Die

Dear Erika,

   I know right now you are feeling like shit, but you have to pull through. Your life is on the line and right now it may seem like a fabulous thing to die, but in the long run it won’t benefit anyone and you know that. Dr. Stevens and Dr. Martin could very well lose their jobs, your family would be devastated, your future, which could be so bright, would be nonexistent. Try to pull through these tough moments with warms thoughts. Even if your warm thoughts are death, that’s okay, as long as you live through the moment. Put down the razorblade or the bottle of pills right now. If you are hearing these demonic voices simply tell them to go away. People love and care about you so much. Don’t get stressed and if you are so stressed you can’t take it anymore go down to your mother and get a damn Klonopin or two. But don’t sneak more than you are supposed to because I know you tend to do that.  Take the right dosage of your medicine and never stop taking it unless Dr. Martin tells you to. This is unlikely though, and you should come to accept you have a life long illness that sucks sometimes, but it’s never too bad to where you need to die or cut yourself to ribbons. Everything will be okay. I promise.
 "In spite of all the odds against her ... she was still fighting.”

Love, Erika