This past week I have found it hard to deal with pain and voices in my head. Depression diagnosed as half depression half schizophrenia. I look up on freaking You tube, how to be a better daughter, how to be a better twin sister. Because I feel like I no longer trust myself to be good. To be what my family needs. They want a sweet. calm daughter who writes inspiration, not truth. I try to listen with my heart but all I can manage is listening to those voices. But the reality is that once you realize whats wrong, its human to try to go back to what you were before. To feel guilt and remorse over that little girl you killed…you. It hasn’t gotten better with pills but what has changed it change. I’m trying and I wish my parents could know this. I try everyday to go to school, to not cry and to not stuff my face with food when I get home. That little fact is what has changed…..I’m trying. Am I perfectly happy? I wouldn’t be human if I was. I don’t feel happy but there are times where I feel content. Like a spider still weaving her web. Still working but knowing when she’s done she will have made a secure, safe place for her. And it won’t be within my head. I won’t hurt anyone listening to my ears, I’ll learn to embrace healing people with my heart. Because helping others, it makes a small smile on my face, maybe even a laugh and I feel happy. I think it first got out of hand when was when I was cutting everyday. It wasn’t happiness, but it was pain I could control until I started hurting people out of fear of being caught. I went into a lesbian relationship with an abusive person. Lizzy was what I called her. Short for Elizabeth, but just the right length for my soul. physically abusive? Never. Emotionally? All the time. But the truth was that I was sad, and I didn’t know why and a small part of my brain had concluded I must just be a bad person. A person that must enjoy pain and seeing the pain in other people. When my parents found out it was the worst and best day of my life. They walked me through the signs of emotional abuse. Did Lizzy isolate me from my friends? Run off and expect me to drop everything and follow? Make her problems within her family my fault? Lie to me? Lie to my family? Try to get me to sneak out to spend time with her? Threaten to kill herself when I wanted to tell? Give me gifts when she hurt me only to hurt me right after? The list went on and all the answers were yes. What had been an exciting secret relationship was blowing up in my face, and I felt like it was my fault. We were always off again, on again, but the last straw was her giving me a beautiful blue bracelet after ignoring me for a week. She gave it to me in the color blue, saying it was my favorite. It wasn’t. In that moment I realized she didn’t even really know me, despite how many times I’d told her my colors were lavender and midnight blue. It was everything I could do not to burst into tears. I had lied to my family, my twin, would ditch my friends….anything she asked. And for what? I couldn’t tell her how much I cut without her making it about her. She was unhealthy but so was I. But the difference was I wanted to end it. Permanently. I miss her everyday when I feel lonely. But I only miss the good parts, my mind only remembering what she did for me, not what she did to me. When I realized this I also questioned what had the voices ever done for me? The benefits of feeling depressed and sluggish all day were zero. I am changing, and I encourage everyone out there with relationships such as mine to get out. Love your self first or you won’t truly appreciate someone else with out being uncomfortable and being hurt.