You can call me by my username or just Lavender. I'm a 19 year old girl. I suffer from intense depression, a crippling self harm addiction, social/general anxiety, body dysmorphia, bulimic tendencies, agoraphobia, schizophrenia, and DID, though that last one I don't really suffer from, it's more of just my circumstances. I'm the only of my alters on here as far as I know, and I would rather they not know about this account, but as a consequence of that I might not be around very often, ehehe. I've been abused—physically, emotionally, and sexually (multiple times)—and I'm so, so tired of the constant pain... I take so many pills for every single issue that I bring up with my psychiatrist, right now I'm on 13 pills a day, but I've been at points where I'm taking over twenty a day for my various problems... None of them ever work... Most just become something that if I don't take it I feel even worse...
I guess... I probably don't have to explain why I want to die so much, I'm sure it's fairly evident already, ehehe. I'm a burden to everyone around me, I can't do anything, I'm losing any bit of artistic talent I have day by day, I don't have any irl friends and really struggle with leaving my room and especially my house because often time I'm only barely lucid enough to understand that what I see and hear around me isn't real. When I was in highschool I was ignored mostly which I was ok with, until one day when someone I thought was my friend caught me treating my self harm wounds, and even though I begged him not to tell anyone he seemingly told everyone... I lost all of my irl friends, wasn't allowed outside of faculty's view for more than two minutes even to use the bathroom, and received many, many messages reminding me of how I'm a monster, a horrible person, and how I'd be better off dead.
I was put into a mental ward a year later after almost dying of blood loss. I've had problems with mental health professionals before, but my time in the mental ward was both horrible and something I wish I could back to sometimes. The staff wasn't equipped to deal with us at all, they were pretty much babysitters they hired to take care of us, despite many of us having severe issues that they just didn't seem trained for. The scheduled life was nice though, I didn't have to think about anything, I didn't have to do anything, I was just ushered around most of the time.
I tried college because I thought my parents would kick me out if I didn't, and having nowhere I could even really go plus a scholarship it was really the only choice I felt I could take. But I couldn't do it, I hate people looking at me in public, I hate not knowing how I'm being perceived, though I'm sure my classmates all saw me as the weird girl who flinches at nothing and hides behind her backpack... I ended up skipping classes and hiding in the bathrooms most days. I can't really get a job because of my condition, so to pay for lunches one of my alters started selling lewd pictures of us online, though it's not like she got much traffic or anything, we were barely able to afford an uncrustable every other day, ehehe...
I've attempted suicide four times, the first when I was either 12 or 11, the next two were both in highschool, and the last one was four months ago. I fantasize about death every day though, as well as cutting myself... Cutting myself is the one thing that makes me happy, it makes me feel so warm and spacey and sometimes it makes me feel really sleepy, ehehe... Nothing else ever compares, nothing else ever will compare... My psychiatrist says it's because my body releases opiates into my system when I cut, ehehe... I have thousands and thousands of scars covering me from cutting multiple times three times a day for nearly four years. I hid it for most of my life because I knew I'd be seen as a freak if people saw all my scars, but eventually people found out, and... Well, I was pretty much correct... My online friends and family ask me not to cut myself though, so I try to respect their wishes... Generally I want to make people happy because... I can't have my happy... They say it's not real happiness, it's fake, and say I'll be better without it...
These days, all I (and my other alters) do is distract myself. Distract myself with videos, with TV shows, with video games, with board games, making music, making art, solving twisty puzzles, eating food, doing lewd stuff, cuddling my many plushies, just anything, anything, anything to keep me from thinking about how wonderful it would feel to slice myself open right now, how much I want to die... Really, all I want is to be able to fade into nothing, ideally surrounded by my soft plushies, without anyone being effected. I'm really just... I'm just so tired, but I really don't wat to hurt anyone... They don't deserve my pain forced onto them... Every day is harder than the last, I keep myself from self harming because my family and online friends ask me not to, I tried to get a job because they want me to, I try to leave my room because they want me to, I keep myself alive because they want me to... But that doesn't stop me from constantly dreaming of the day when I can die, when nobody will care if I just let myself bleed out... What a wonderful dream that is, ehehe.
I just hope that day can come sooner rather than later...
