Escaping my reality is becoming more difficult. I feel their disapproving eyes. Probing me with questions I can't answer. When will this stop? My heart says never. I breathe in sorrow as if it's the only substance that can sustain...me. My heart longs for suffering, so my body may feel at home. These stale tears are a reminder, your pain is still here. I am validated. My long suffering is no...

I am regressing. Every action or choice I must make, I wish to avoid. I feel the fear mounting. I am stopped. Dead in my tracks. Caught in the light. Fear taking control. I feel the importance take hold and like Death's cold mistress, I feel the icy clouds graze my neck. She is here. I am running out of time. I though I had more. A conventional death I would welcome. Finality brings comfort. She...

I am reduced to expelling my thoughts here. I now lie even to my therapist. Forced to relive every embarrassing thought through these pages. I've torn out more than I can count. Too ashamed to look myself in the eye. What have I become? How could I have not changed in these past seven years? Where is my progress? Is there not one modicum of trust left in this body that I have none left for myself?...

I'm what you call a guilty child. I decided that this was the best label for me when I was eight years old. The reason I gave myself this label is because when I was six, my dad left my family. I know now she didn't mean it but back then my mother used to blame my sisters and me, for him leaving. It was apparent though that the real truth was he left because of her and no woman, no matter what,...