I want to thank all of you who have sent anything to the email (or p.o. box) <3
TEXT SECRETS!! <3
AsylumSecret #1: I am 20, and I do nothing.Sometimes I think that one day soon I'll just become nothing.People shed 40,000 skin cells every second apparently - this will be my only mark left on the world. I want to die. Please.
AsylumSecret #2: All of my friends are my boyfriend's friends. I either met them because of him, or we met them together. I have absolutely no friends that are just my friends. So, when he decides to have a guy's night out with his friends or whatever.. I'm stuck at home.
AsylumSecret #3: 1:You still breathe and your heart still beats. But when you left, you died, and i buried your memories long ago. Only now your memory walks about my own house and lives in my own bedroom reminding me of you every waking moment...I only fear that ill end up leaving and "kiling" him too.
2:I know i need help, but im too scared to get it. fear of what it would spoil, my already fragile family, the hard work i put into schooling, the charade ive been living
3: I let you go because I didnt love youwere good friends still, and im grateful for that youve found happiness with someone else and yet in the back of my head i know theres a part of me that wants you back
4:my biggest fear is being alone. yet im constantly pushing people away. I feel like i dont exist half the time and the times when i do im being degraded or blamed for something. I hate everyting about my life, yet fear changing anything about it...
5:I don't see myself happy in the future,i see a mental breakdown leading to the worst.
6: Im only genuinely happy around her... or when im drunk. She loved me, and i left it too late... i wish i could have said something sooner.
7: im actually looking forward to 5
8: I keep hallucinating shadows and flashes of light, my friends find it funny when i randomly scream, but i am guenuinly terrified... though ill always laugh it off.
9: I'll never take medication... i would rather get better myself than have someone quote a textbook at me then make me consume an anomynous powder/ liquid...at least i know whats happening isnt a side effect.
AsylumSecret #4: I manipulate people. Nothing too big. Just little things that mess with their minds.I hate the attention it gets me, but I can't seem to stop. The worst part is, the people I do it to are the ones I love the most in my life. What's wrong with me?
AsylumSecret #5: I'm afraid to change. I'm scared of what I'll become afterward. I've been this way, this depressed, this messed up for so long that I don't want to change. I don't want to be normal and lose an ounce of who I am, even if who I am constantly imagines my own death. The me that doesn't remember a time when I truly felt happy, the me that doesn't have any friends and feels no self worth. Sometimes I don't want to change, I'd much rather be dead.
AsylumSecret #6: Dearest AsylumSecrets,I have a lot that I would like to get off of my chest, so please bear with me. This is not going to be easy, as many of the things I am about to tell you I have been unable to tell even my counselor or best friend.- I feel like I lack a reason to live and that scares and depresses me- I fear intimacy. I've never even been kissed, and I'm terrified of even THAT. I've considered finding a somewhat random guy to have sex with, just to try to get over my fear, but I can't allow myself to do that. And because of this fear of intimacy, I only let myself feel attracted people who are "safe" and would never return my feelings, like someone much older than me or someone in a position of authority. It hurts...because sometimes those feelings are still real.- I crave affection, attention, and acceptance from males...especially from teachers and professors.- Some days I think I truly hate my father...other days, I don't.- I get really off-the-wall paranoid thoughts from time to time. Sometimes I think that someone is watching me...even in my room. Some days I just get this awful feeling that I'm going to die that day. When those feelings get bad enough, I write notes to everyone...just in case. There are still a couple of them hidden in my room.- I think truly terrible thoughts sometimes...they just pop into my head before I can stop them. Even though I can't control them, I feel so guilty for having them. And I never really mean them. I don't know why I think these, other than to drive myself insane. (It works.)- I hate having morals. I hate that I feel guilty for every damn thing I do. Sometimes I just want to do something violent or rob a bank or SOMETHING...- I don't know what my sexuality really is. I've questioned myself and felt so many different things that I just don't know anymore. And I'm afraid that not being heterosexual would affect my future career (because it has for other people before -- especially where I'm from) and I hate that I feel this way. I hate that it matters.- I feel like I'm losing my passion for the subject I have loved dearly for years. It kills me. I think it's fear that's causing this. Fear of failure. If I lose that passion and choose something easier, at least I didn't fail, right? At least I didn't flunk out...at least I can claim that I lost interest....
Until next time...
AsylumSecret #7: I am not only contemplating running away, as I am also contemplation suicide, burning my fucking house to the ground, or maybe going to a convent even though I'm not religious at all. I feel I'm a prisoner in my own "home" (I can't call it a home, not my home, no). I have no where to go. I can't go live with any family without leaving behind my boyfriend, who's basically the only thing I have left, but even that is fading away from my mind because I'm too busy thinking about how I might take my own life. And if he fade away from my mind, it is over for me. I shake as I write this, but I'm that desperate. I'm even considering begging for money in the internet and where ever I can, and I'm not even poor. Or my family isn't, but I can't be around then anymore, not after so many years of the same fucking abuse. Not to mention the abuse I suffered by the hands of 3 different people, who molested me when I was 7, 11, and 12 years old. One older boy, one older man, and one older woman. And also my fucking asshole of an ex-boyfriend who still plagues my mind after 3 or 4 years. I was fucking 13, he was 18! And he knows what he did to me, or what he almost did to me. And he knows how he made me feel, and for what reasons. But since this is anonymous anyway. He tried to force me to have sex, something I felt I wasn't really for, I was too young and I hadn't gotten over what had happened to me. I still haven't and I'll never will. How upon telling me what people had done to be he replied "at least you weren't raped". I truly feel sad for other people's problems, those who know me know I care, sometimes too much, but my problems are my problems! And then, when I had enough of his non-supporting and abusive nature and I tried to leave him, he told me he would die. And I thought maybe he will change, everyone deserves a second chance. Guess what? Big mistake. When I finally left him for good, he stalked me and my friends, trying to win me back with his shit poetry (guess what, Em was right). And this plan of his failed, he told all my friend that I was crazy and that I should be locked up, and that I'd rather fuck a dog than fucking him. All the while, I almost stopped eating because I was really depressed (at 14/15 years old), and my mom sent me to the doctor, who prescribed me sleeping pills and a free (or not) trip to the pedopsychologist from his office. She was pregnant and asked me to fill out a form, which basically asked some questions resembling and IQ test and a personality assessment of sorts. Then she told my mom how special and intelligent and sensible I was, and how she should be so proud. On my SECOND appointment with her, which was one or two months after the first one, she had already have the baby, and, without sitting down, asked me only one question: "Do you think I'm fat?!". She almost looked angry. Now come on. I'm a skinny girl, I always have been, and yes I was very bellow my ideal weight because I couldn't eat. I have trouble telling who's fat or not. I'd say an obese is fat and a 500kg man is obese, if you know what I mean. I told her "no", I wasn't trying to be nice, I was honest. She wasn't fat. She looked lovely. Then she flips and shouts at me: "Your vision is blurred, you need to eat, you are like so many girls I've seen here, (you fucking anorexic bitch who might husband would probably choose over me), I'm going to lock you up far away from your home and everyone and everything you love, force-feed you if I need, AND YOU WILL DIE." Not "or". She said "WILL". I was crying by then, and I didn't defend myself. I'm not stupid, I know that if I was anorexic I would deny it on the spot, just like I would, would she'd asked me if I was suicidal. I know I would have to be examined by different doctors before she could send me to some mental hospital. Those different doctors, on a state hospital, some couldn't care less, and my therapist here, her contract was expiring the following month. Still I was weighted, my boned where measured, my teeth were seen more than 7 times by 4 different doctors, and my period and such other lady bits were investigated upon. The real problem was left untreated, and get this, the irony, like Em, this only made me feel more suicidal. But I was finally classified as NOT anorexic, just sad. Because I didn't talk about my problem, would you? I haven't been able to be completely honest to any of my 4 following shrinks. Oh and it wasn't really easy at home either. My father was pressuring me to choose medicine or something, or NOT to choose arts, which I did!And the cherry on top of the cake? Having to hear from my so called friends how I'm making all this up so I can look like EA. WTF! Seriously, you could have just stabbed me on the back. I'm sorry, I'm ranting. And this was too much. But I resent these people. And I'm falling apart
AsylumSecret #8: I hate my best friend, And I'm still in love with my ex-girlfriend...
AsylumSecret #9: After years of abuse by my mom's numerous boyfriends, and eventual rape by my step-dad I attempted suicide (I was only 12 - cut to the wrists). The only reason it didn't work is I feared my little sisters growing up through the same things without anyone to believe in and run to. Thankfully, my stepsister was home and able to save me. My little sisters are the only thing that keeps me going day to day, and I fear my life won't be worth living when they're finally out of my mom's house.
AsylumSecret #10: I started cutting when I was 10 years old, but I do not like the attention that comes with the scars...yet I still cut on my arms. My mom found out when I was a sophomore in high school, and flipped out telling me I was not her daughter and did not talk to me for a month. She even blamed my best friend. Ever since then I wear hoodies almost all the time because I'm afraid people wouldn't love me if they found out. The sad thing is, if I run out of room on the upper part of my arms, and go too close to my wrists I freak out afraid I'm going to cut too deep... This does not stop me from cutting there, but it does cause me to stress and cut at my right ankle until my wrist stops bleeding. I cannot sleep with a fresh cut because I'm afraid I will die in my sleep, and that is the opposite of the reason I'm cutting in the first place. I need a reminder that I am alive. Ha, and I'm almost 21. I'm supposed to be an adult, right?
AsylumSecret #11: Every night I go to bed, and offer up prayers to Goddess' whom I gave up believing in so long ago. I always pray that she will one day look at me long enough to see past the broken bits, long enough to delve under the fake smile, long enough to realise how desperately I clutch at sanity. I always pray that one day she will see me, walk up to me, and just hold me without wanting to say a word.I've started offering up a small amount of my blood mixed with wine every night. It's making me feel like crap; But if the only way to be connected to her is to be miserable, then I will take the misery with a spoonful of insanity.
AsylumSecret #12: Mental illness runs in my family. My mother goes to a therapist but has no illness. I've asked my parents multiple times to see a psychoanalyst to see what the fuck is wrong with me and they refuse. Even though they know that I've attempted suicide multiple times before.
My brother tried to rape me while I was asleep when we were twelve. He doesn't know I know.
I think I have bi-polar disorder.
I shove so much stuff under my bed so that I can guarantee that nothing else can fit under it because I'm afraid someone will hide under there and kill me.
I look around the room every few seconds, even when I'm completely alone, because I'm afraid someone is there, watching me.
I imagine killing people I both love and hate, and killing myself multiple times during the day, especially if I'm next to something harmful like a skillet or a knife.
I'm attracted to both men and women but I don't want to have a relationship with a woman. I want a man to hold me when things get rough, but I want to have at least one sexual experience with another woman.
I cry for no reason at all sometimes.
I've had both manic and depressive moods since I was three years old.
From the time I was nine to the time I was twelve, I was in a deep depression. My parents say that I'm lying. I'm not.
My mother has a bachelors in Sociology. She tries to be my psychologist and uses psychobabble on me every chance she gets, even when nothing is wrong, she pushes me. Even when something is wrong, I don't say anything because I don't want to talk to her. I'd rather talk to a complete stranger that her.
PICTURES!!! <3
