The voices get louder, feels like they're screaming. The blood gets redder and sweeter the more I cut. The fear of dying is less controlling. My reflection is NOT my reflection, it's someone elses. The wounds won't heal and it hurts pretending to be someone I'm not. This disease is truly overwhelming and hard to control. I can't take pills, they only mask the pain, they don't erase it. The world is closing all around me. The pain turns numb and I feel at peace. I walk into my own world where I'm alone. I don't know why I'm like this, yet it keeps me sane. I'm not a failure, but those around me have failed me, so I go into my own world. Nothing can hurt me and I love the silence, yet the voices are getting louder, they seem to be screaming, so I see and hear nothing but death and destruction. Why is there no hope for this life? Will I find it in the afterlife? Will the devil come for my soul regardless of all the pain and destruction I've caused? I'm completely obsessed with death instead of the life I've been given. Why do I dedicate life on death when it's so far away? It burns too much to control it. I won't accept help, I can control it, but what happens when I can't anymore? What happens then?