spent friday night in the hospital...
haven't really been handling life too well lately.

I've been asking for help but nobody listens. My doctor has been putting in referral after referral for me to see a new psychiatrist, since the last time I saw a shrink on a regular basis I was 18 and I'm a completely different person now, but no one will see me.

once you hit 18 you need to either be O.D.ing in the streets or begging for help with a gun to your head for anyone to give a shit.

after waiting around for 12 hours I finally left the hospital with a perscription for sleeping pills and yet another referral.

big help.

one two THREEE one two THREEE one two THREEE

why can't I find comfort in the unpredictable?


The self-titled album by the Dresden Dolls is my standard breakdown soundtrack. It came out around the same time that shit began to hit the fan in my life, and I started realizing my brain didn't work like other people's.

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why can't I just let it all just happen? Why do I need to do.check.repeat. in threees?
why can't I just turn off the broken parts in my head?
why do I need to take 4 little pills every day just to live like everyone else?

"Bad Habit"
by the Dresden Dolls

Biting keeps your words at bay
Tending to the sores that stay
Happiness is just a gash away
When i open a familiar scar
Pain goes shooting like a star
Comfort hasn't failed to follow so far...

And you might say it's self-indulgent
You might say its self-destructive
But, you see, it's more productive
Than if i were to be healthy

& pens and penknives take the blame
Crane my neck & scratch my name
But the ugly marks
Are worth the momentary gain...
When i jab a sharpened object in
Choirs of angels seem to sing
Hymns of hate in memorandum

And you might say it's self-indulgent
And you might say it's self-destructive
But, you see, it's more productive
Than if i were to be happy

And sappy songs about sex and cheating
Bland accounts of two lovers meeting
Make me want to give mankind a beating

And you might say it's self-destructive
But, you see, i'd kick the bucket
Sixty times before i'd kick the habit

And as the skin rips off i cherish the revolting thought
That even if i quit
There's not a chance in hell i'd stop
And anyone can see the signs
Mittens in the summertime
Thank you for your pity, you are too kind

And you might say its self-inflicted
But you see that's contradictive
Why on earth would anyone practice self destruction?

And pain opinions are sitcom feeding
They dont know that their minds are teething
Makes me want to give mankind a beating

I'm tried bandages and sinking
I've tried gloves and even thinking
I've tried vaseline
I've tried everything
And no-one cares if your back is bleeding
They're concerned with their hair receding
Looking back it was all maltreating
Every thought that occurred misleading

Makes me want to give myself a beating....

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I'm so vain; I probably think this song is about me...


dying my hair; time for a change.

I move out in 2 weeks.
I'm secretly terrified.

nymph
xoxoxo