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mood |
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gloomy |
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music |
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disturbed - remember |
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the names jordyn devoni wilkins... i have problems as many would say. my old therepist said i needed to get one of these things, and he also sent me here to be under 24 hour surveilence.
*looks at hand shaking, hops it down, as my other arm begins to shake, closes eyes a bit* i suffer from convulsions, alcohol abuse, drug addiction, being suicidal, and cutting my self... not a fun life i have...
i grew up in waldorf, maryland. my father a drug dealer, and an alcoholic, my mother suffered from schiztophrenia. so, i spent a lot of my time alone in my room, thinking about death... plotting of ways to end this life i had... if not, i always turned to my fathers stash of drugs, or alcohol... stealing money to get more drugs and alcohol when i couldnt get it from my dad... he always found some missing, and always beat me to tell me where it had gone too.
i never fessed up... so he sent me away to the pshyciatric hospital. i couldn't stand it... countless nights all alone.. cold, scared... i just got worse from there... soon i developed convulsions and deep sweats at night... it got worse as the nights went on. soon i could barely sit still without shaking, or breaking out in sweats... i finally got the medicine they perscribe to me.. and of course.. it didnt work, i was allergic to it, and spit it up, and broke out.. almost choked to death.. which i wouldnt have really minded sinc emy life was horrible anyways. in due time they found another perscription, and it got rid of my sweats, and toned down my convulsions a bit. though i still had suicidal thoughts lurking my mind, and i found a way to startcutting my wrists, i tried anything. soon i didnt feel the pain in doing it, it soon was a rush to feel the blood flowing freely. so i started doing it more, until they found out. they put me in a coushioned room, and left me there alone, with nothing but a straight jacket. i would sit there, thinking about how life would be if i didnt grow up the way i did. i wanted a new life... so i tried to erase the thoughts of suicide, and death...
about a year later.. they released me.. by then i was 12. i was living better, moved in with my aunt and uncle in baltimore.. got along great with them, until one of my friends got me on drugs again. as soon as my aunt and uncle found out, they threw me out, and i bunked with my friend. going out every night, partying, drinking. it was some life. until my convulsions got worse again. i had traded my meds in for acid... and one night i had them so bad, i went unconcious.. my friend called the hospital, they brought me in, and then after they revived me, got my old doctors on the phone, and sent me back to them.
another 2 years... went by... stil had convulsions, thoughts of suicide, and alcohol, and drugs are still what i crave. so they sent me here hoping i would get over all of that.. i don't know how much this will help.. but i'll give it a shot. anything to live a semi-normal life again.
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