Deep down inside of us all there is a little bit of insanity. It remains hidden inside of us until great moments of weakness. Moments of great sadness, where the mind is fragile and falling apart. Insanity can be reache through pain and loss, misery and death. Perhaps the easiest way to reach insanity is through suicide. In that moment when you make the decision to go through with it and become insane you open yourself up to the monsters outside of yourself, or "demons" Demons love the chaos that insanity brings in that moment. They thrive on it. To the demons its beauty in chaos.
That is how I found my insanity. Through suicide. I tried when I was ten years old, thinking that my mom's life would be so much easier without me. So of course the moment that I decided to go through with killing myself I let the demons in and they claimed me as their own. As a result they somehow managed to keep alive until my mom found me dying on the floor of bleach poisioning.
There was three of them. A leader, who hardly ever spoke but, when he did it was more painful then watching a loved die. The second one was beautiful in a way that I cannot comprehend. She was what I wanted to be, beautiful, powerful, perfect. Her voice is what got to me most though. It was so... enchanting. It drew me in and captured my heart. When she spoke I couldn't help but want to follow her every whim. The third, and perhaps the most disturbing of all, was myself as a ten year old girl that no one loved. She was me and I was her. We were the same.
From the time I was ten years old I convinced myself that the "voices" weren't real, that they were all in my head. The reality of the situation was so incredibly insane that even in my mental state I wasn't able to conceive what was going on within my very own head.
Within the time span of four years I tried to commit suicide a total of 6 times. The closest I had ever come to death was the 6th time were l cut from the base of my wrist to the crook of my elbow after ingesting half a bottle of vodka. The demons wouldn't let me die though. They wanted me to live in pain.
My scar faded incredibly fast so only months later, what had should have been a killing cut only looked like a scratch. At the time I didn't understand. I was confused and scared and thought I was an insane freak. Of course I was an insane freak and still am to the day.
Three months after my sixth suicide attempt I met a boy who would change my life forever, Chandler Smith.
