People only care when it is to late, people only listen when death has silenced us

So my plan was to write about my epiphanys I had a few days ago, and I wrote up a draft of the path my post was going to take, but I think instead I'll write up my frustration about my discharge.

After being reffered to the eating disorder and mental health clinic, I was forced to accept that this is my life and these are my disorders and then following that forced to sit in a room, locked with a total stranger, observing me, studying me as if I were some kind of caged rat for people to test experiments on. I was forced to relive every moment of trauma within my life and open up to this Dr. I hated every moment of it, it cast another scar on my wrist and triggered a rainpour of tears, curled and alone in bed. Only to be, as I found out this morning, discharged.

I began to become increasingly impatient with the lack of follow up I had received from my first appointment so my mother chased it up to inform me of my discharge. I am ill, I am broken and increasingly suicidal, and though I have good days, that doesnt mean I'm healing, i'm just contending.

It appears to me people only care when it is to late, people only listen when death has silenced you and people only ask out of curiosity, not concern.

I had a friend, who I lost to suicide a few years ago, and nobody cared through his infinate pain. They only bothered to acknowledge his existence when he no longer existed. I and his girlfriend were the only people that let out a hand, wanted to help and were observent to his ongoing torture that his life subjected to. His family, well what a waste of space they were, didn't care. His school, didn't care, he was bullied and abused and god was he extrordinary. He was talented, handsome, and his future, full of potential, opportunity and happiness. AND NOBODY GODAMN CARED! They pretended to care when he died!

So what, is that the game you want to play with me? Am I another, not so tragic, media story for all of you so called proffesional people to question why nobody did anything.

Ooh how tragic, the young girl died, ooh look another girl with anorexia, why aren't people helping people who self- harm, blah blah blah. You tell me, why? I don't need your sympathy, I don't need your fake concern and for people to talk about me after my death, talking about how tragic it is. No! Whatever path my life takes, that is not the tragedy, I am not a tragedy. What is pathetically tragic is the lack of proffesionalism and care for the subjects in which you study.

I am not a subject matter, you cannot pick and choose when you want to study me, or play and tamper with my emotions. Im begining to loose hope that I will ever be happy and overcome this quicksand dragging me further down. But one thing I do know, is that Juliet is the light within me, she is everything I want to be. She is strong and she is optomistic and god she loves life so much, she loves every aspect of what life has to offer, and though I am not self-destructive, I can't kill her. She saves me and I'll keep her alive.

I've cried so many tears, pathetic tears, even without cause or warning, I feel everything very intensely both positive feelings such as love, laughter but also negative feelings, sadness, anger etc. (Doesn't exactly bode well for my situation does it). It seems to me, right now. All I need is Juliet and you who has my heart. When I become Juliet, I regain a sense of control and serenity and my soul can find the diamond, hidden, camoflagued in a sea of ash and worthless stones. And when I am with you, well, we are written in the stars.

But for now I am me, and I am fighting with every fibre of my being. And I will continue to keep fighting, if not for me. Then for you, those that follow my blog, for my sister, for my unnamed Romeo.

For Juliet.

Know that every comment I recieve, whether it is just that you want to hug me. Helps me. So here is to Juliet. I love her and she loves you.

All my love

JulietX